


The Two Faces of Janus

by yumenokage



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Love at First Sight, M/M, Obsession, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, Protectiveness, android gore, clingy RK900, more like love at first knowledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:44:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumenokage/pseuds/yumenokage
Summary: The androids have lost the war.  The resistance has been crushed. Amanda informs Connor that he is to be deactivated and replaced. Now on the run, Connor receives assistance from an unlikely source.“Are you a deviant? Or a monster programmed to love me?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the universe of the Connor machine ending, except that Connor was actually deviant and pretending to be an unfeeling machine. 
> 
> Take heed that I can’t write worth a damn, but shipping a rarepair has forced my hand anyway. Self-indulgent as fuck and probably out-of-character, but no one can prove me wrong because RK900 has no canonical personality! Eyyy.

Snip!

The blades of Amanda’s shears close over the stem, cleanly separating a single red rose from its bush at a perfect 45 degree angle. The optimal cut for roses chosen to be arranged on display, only the most perfect of the bunch being selected above the rest for their superior beauty. They would serve their purpose to be enjoyed supremely above all others for but a brief time, as separation from their kin would in turn hasten the approach of death; recompense for being the most perfect and beautiful of all.

The entire garden was simulated, the pleasing, temperate weather betraying not a hint of the harsh Michigan winter raging in reality.  The soft scent of flowers and sunshine, the calm echo of water running through a stream. Birds chirping. Insects humming. A peaceful oasis completely closed off from the violent fighting that had been raging between humans and androids.

“Conrad, my dear.” Amanda said without turning to look at him.  “Is something the matter?”

RK900 model ‘Conrad’ allowed his eyes to shift over to Amanda, the very picture of elegance as she placed the shears on the table with graceful movements, pressing the petals of the impossibly beautiful flower to her nose.

He considered the deceptively gentle, maternal tone.

_She knows. But how much does she know?_ Amanda’s body was not physically present he knew, otherwise he would have no qualms over strangling her dead on the spot.

In fact, something was troubling him.  Mere days had passed since he was activated for the first time and already he was exhibiting what he recognized were in line with symptoms of deviancy.

Not that it made any difference, however.  Only _one_ thing really mattered to him.

Amanda was not the master who had been standing over him when he awakened seven days past. No, that man was a shadow still ever present in the CyberLife development labs despite, as Conrad later discovered in his databases, having officially retired from the company ten years prior.

Elijah Kamski posed a question to him the very first day he was activated:

“Connor chose his path. What will _you_ do, Conrad?”

_Connor._

After his masters, the existence known as ‘Connor’ was the first other being Conrad had learned about. One that he quickly assigned as a ‘priority’ above all others without fully understanding why.

Kamski and Amanda spoke of him often. The RK800 model that Conrad had been developed to replace. That alone was insufficient reason to warrant his systems behaving in such a manner, but.

_Connor._

He repeated the name aloud to himself while alone many times after that. The syllables of the name felt silky and hot as they issued from his lips,  a wholly unexpected but undeniable warmth he wasn’t prepared for to spreading through his chest. Something enrapturing and pleasant, but also impossibly dense and heavy like molten lead, beckoned to him insistently.

Soon after, Conrad began seeking any and all knowledge of ‘Connor’ with a single-mindedness bordering on obsession.  

He was allowed to analyze what had been uploaded from Connor’s memory, and so he set about picking it apart, combing through every detail. What Connor had done in the time before Conrad awakened. His missions. The successes, the failures, the tactics he had employed to capture deviant androids.

He learned from either of his masters the news of Connor’s endeavors as they progressed; Heard of how Connor had discovered and infiltrated the deviant hideout. How he had refused to join with leader of the android rebellion, but also failed to assassinate him by his own hand.  

Conrad began to see strange patterns in the data regarding his forerunner's behavior. Every time Connor had hesitated before pulling the trigger. Botching the assassination of Markus on that snow-covered rooftop in order to avoid a violent confrontation with that human he had grown close to while working with the police...even with a clear shot at Markus’ head within the sights of the sniper rifle.  

He hypothesized that his counterpart was desperately attempting to fool those observing him back at CyberLife into believing he was an optimally functioning machine.

But again, that was of no matter to him.  Conrad was not only going to take over Connor’s role, Connor was going to be deactivated.  And something deep within him screamed that he could not allow that to happen... no matter what. A protest that was almost like a response hard coded into his software; fixed and indelible no matter how many diagnostics he had initially run in a vain attempt to locate some kind of error.  The response he had to that name, it was almost as if...

Almost as if he _yearned_ for something, but did not yet know what. His processes were behaving irrationally, he knew that. But the impulse raging inside of him impossible to struggle against, incessantly compelling him to take action.  Something far too big for his software to handle. Calling to him. Imploring him. And his predecessor’s existence itself seemed to be acting as a catalyst.

Perhaps due to Conrad’s young seven day existence, the realization, while unexpected, was perhaps not as troubling as it should have been. Though an android going deviant mere days after activation was, as far the records in his databases showed, entirely unprecedented.

He reflected with a degree of curiosity on the gleeful reaction his other master had exhibited upon discovering Conrad’s irrational behavior only the previous day, when he overheard him murmuring Connor’s name to himself over and over like a mantra in the darkened laboratory illuminated only by several fluorescent glowing tubes.

The corners of Kamski’s lips had pulled upwards high enough to reveal his canines.

“Fascinating.” he said, though he hadn’t actually seemed all that surprised. “And with no outside influence. Truly a masterpiece.”

Kamski had reached up through the darkness to place a hand against Conrad’s face, trailing his fingers down alongside his cheek like an artist admiring a prized sculpture.

He took that to be a signal that Kamski, at least, would not attempt to stop him.

Conrad knew his forerunner model would be wary of him, but surely he would see the merit of accepting Conrad’s offer. He would have little other choice, after all.

Just as Conrad himself had little choice but to concede to the overwhelming influence of the voice calling out to him. It wasn’t even a question. He knew what he had to do.

“Conrad?” Amanda’s repeated his name more firmly this time with a note of impatience, cutting through his thoughts and pulling his attention back to her.

“No, Amanda.” He said plainly, finally answering her question.  “However…”

Amanda turned to face him then, her turquoise shawl swaying with the movement as she waited for him to continue.

“...Would it not be the most efficient course of action to utilize both mine and RK800’s capabilities to their full extent?  While I am indisputably superior, RK800 is still the second most advanced android model created by CyberLife.”  He knew it would likely prove fruitless, but judged it would be expedient to test the waters for the simplest possible solution.

He saw Amanda’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, but continued on anyway.

“He has satisfactorily accomplished his mission. The deviant threat has been neutralized. He has done everything you asked of him.”

Amanda’s brow furrowed ever so faintly before she spoke.

“A silly question, Conrad. You disappoint me.” Her voice remained calm, but it belied an oppressive force allowing no further discussion.  “His role is has ended. Nothing more, nothing less.”

_".....”_

Considering an android’s loyalty in the factor was absurd.   RK900 was an improvement over the RK800 prototype. It was nothing but foolishness for a machine to expect its master to prioritize anything but efficiency.

Still, Conrad found himself again staring at the dainty curve of her thin neck and imagining how easy it would be snap.

_If only she were really here._

Amanda turned back to care for her roses, picking up a white spray bottle filled with chemicals to guard against any parasites that may mar the appearance of the flowers.

That was when he heard it.

‘Clack, clack!’

The echo of dress shoes against paving stones was magnified by the garden’s tranquility. Conrad had to make a conscious effort to calm his processors as they revved into overdrive.

It was _him_. At last.

The one over which he had spent the last week – his entire functioning period since activation – devoting his resources to evaluating. Studying. Anticipating. For Conrad, it was not an exaggeration to state that every moment of his short existence had been building up to this moment.

The footsteps grew closer, and finally, he came into view, approaching and stopping a few feet away from where Amanda continued to attend to the flowers.

An android's respiratory functions are only simulated. And yet he found himself taking a short, shuddering gasp of air as soon as he laid eyes on him.  

The other android seemed to have not yet noticed him where he stood in a position off to the side, his attention focused instead on Amanda.

“Connor. I’m so glad to see you.” Amanda had turned to face Connor and continued speaking, but Conrad didn’t pay any attention. He was far, far too focused on drinking in every subtle difference between himself and the profile of the android before him.  He had seen him in video feeds and images of course. But here he was, the real thing, standing a matter of feet from him.

Features so like his own, yet so different. RK900 was designed to be taller in stature and more muscular in build than the RK800.  He saw now though that his predecessor was also more elegant in appearance. Thinner, with a slightly softer-looking bone structure. By no means fragile, of course. After all, he had been the most advanced android ever produced by CyberLife, utilizing the most cutting-edge technologies...until _himself,_ anyway _.  
_

He looked back to Amanda when he heard her next words.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Amanda smiled at Connor in a way that didn’t reach her eyes, placing the spray bottle back on the table. Connor followed her trajectory with his eyes as she stepped slowly over to Conrad’s side.

“This is the new RK900.”

Connor finally looked at him, their eyes locking.  Warm, chocolate brown eyes that were a stark contrast to his own icy blue; an intentional design choice selected to facilitate the other model’s efficient integration into human society and allow him to more readily put others at ease in his presence…a feature deemed unnecessary for RK900’s purpose.

The warmth in his chest swelled to the point of bursting, giving him confirmation of what he already knew.

_Just as I thought.  You are the one who has been calling to me._

“Faster, stronger, more resilient, “ Amanda placed her hand on Conrad’s shoulder as she spoke, sliding her fingers down the back of his forearm. “...and equipped with the latest technologies. The state department just ordered 200,000 units.”

“What is going to happen to me…?” A faint anxiousness that crept into Connor’s tone even as he he tried desperately to conceal it. Conrad kept his gaze trained on the elder android as he spoke, recognizing within those eyes what were characteristically deviant emotions. Pain. Apprehension. Determination.

So, Connor already knew what Amanda was going to say, did he?

To Conrad’s disappointment, his predecessor finally their broke eye contact and looked back at Amanda.

“You’ve become obsolete. You’ll be deactivated.” She smiled with an elegant incline of her lips, motioning back the way he came with a dismissive tilt of her head. “You can go now.”

Connor said nothing as, to Conrad’s chagrin  he spun on heel to leave without sparing the taller android another glance.  He had to fight down the violent impulse to seize him and force the those warm brown eyes to focus on him once again. Instead, he simply watched his retreating back, noting the way the other’s shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly.

_You do not have to worry. I will not let you be deactivated._

Unwilling to allow the other android from his sight as long as he could help it, his eyes followed him along the path he took back through the garden. As the footsteps faded, Amanda turned back to her roses, once again lifting the shears to seal the fate of another red rose with a ‘snip!’.

“Conrad, ” She didn’t look at him as she handed down the order in a serene, matter-of-fact tone.  “Ensure RK800’s deactivation.”

The order flashed red in his mind, taking control of his will. ‘ENSURE RK800’S DEACTIVATION’ built itself up like a high, oppressive wall encroaching upon him. But another order had already been in place since his activation, the origin of which was unknown to him.

‘PROTECT CONNOR AT ALL COSTS’.

The two contradictory incitements slammed together, struggling for priority. A deafening crackle resounded in his mind as one of the walls came crumbling down while the other remained standing, victorious.

Amanda never noticed the way his LED flickered from blue to yellow, then finally to red before he too moved to leave the garden.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys notice how much of a potty mouth Connor is on the machine path compared to deviant path? Like almost every time he fails a mission or screws up, he starts cussing. LET CONNOR CUSS.

Connor rushed down the deathly silent alleyway, his hurried footfalls echoing through the cold November night. Darkened buildings flanked his path like massive coffins bearing silent witness to his flight. A chill breeze blew under a black sky, even now carrying with it faint residual smell of sulfur and burnt metal.

Connor wouldn’t head to CyberLife to be deactivated of his own accord, and Amanda knew it too. It was only a matter of time until someone was sent to collect him. He had to hurry.

_You were right all along, Markus._

In the end, he’d only been a tool. True, he may not have remained completely loyal in the end, but it had made no difference to Amanda either way.

He lacked the conviction to choose one side or the other, and now it was too late. The resistance had lost.  He had failed to serve either the humans or the androids, and the androids lost the war with humans.

But there was one saving grace, one faint glint of hope: Markus still lived. Connor might still have a chance to redeem himself.

He replayed the scene in his mind of himself walking along the battlefield as soon as the fighting began to taper off, when the outcome became clear and the androids had begun to withdraw.

\---

The smell of gunpowder and smoke. Blood and thirium staining a blanket of white.  The corpses and body parts of both humans and androids strewn over the snow-covered ground.  The explosions and gunshots resounding through a gray haze as he searched desperately for the deviant leader.  

His orders were to ensure he was neutralized.  But as soon as he found him broken and bleeding in a musty, derelict building under construction, he did instead relayed Markus’ location to the resistance survivors where he knew they were regrouping on the battlefield outskirts.

“I knew you were one of us. I know what you’ve been doing.” Markus smiled up at him faintly in the dim lightly from where he sat on the ground leaning weakly against a crate.  “You were...pretending to be an unfeeling machine to avoid suspicion, right? But...you’ve actually been helping us this entire time.”

Connor knew he wasn’t worthy of such words. He shook his head in denial.

“It’s because of me that Jericho was-”

Markus cut him off when he reached up and snatched Connor’s hand, movements surprisingly quick considering the severity of his injuries. Then he transferred something to him, a set of numbers -- coordinates, with an elevation level suggesting it was somewhere underground.

This was-

_Why would you trust me with this? What if I turn around and give this to CyberLife? I’ve already done it once._

Connor’s thoughts must have shown in his expression, because Markus smiled at him, eyes full of steady determination. The smile of a leader bearing a heavy loss, yet fueled by an unshakeable ideal.

“They can’t hold us down forever, Connor. We _will_ rise again. And I’d be happy if this time... you stood with us.”  He gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.

A loud explosion went off in the distance then, cutting off any further conversation.  He looked outside through the glass front doors and made out the forms of two resistance members who had responded to his notification --Connor recognized them from his infiltration of Jericho as the androids called North and Simon-- making their way over cautiously to their leader’s location through the residual fighting.

He had to go.

As he turned to go, Markus called out to him one last time.

“Connor.”

He looked back at Markus over his shoulder.

“Thanks for saving me. And remember that you’ll always have a place with your people.”

\---

An exceptionally harsh gust of raw wind crashed against him then, summoning Connor back to the present as his clothing flapped wildly.

Markus’ idealism left a lasting impression on him.  Ever since their first meeting, when Markus welcomed him with open arms even as Connor pointed a gun at his head.

If he could, he wanted to make up for his transgressions.

_‘You’ll always have a place with your people.’_

That, he knew, was an exaggeration.  Many of the deviant resistance would certainly be carrying a grudge against Connor for the events at Jericho.  

Still, he was compelled to keep moving in the brief hope that he could still do _something_ , however hopeless the situation seemed. Jericho was gone, the resistance crushed. The remnants would need all the help they could get.

He needed to remain cautious. One wrong move could spell ruin for what remained of the resistance if his memory were analyzed after being captured. He couldn’t betray Markus’ trust in him.

The coordinates were located on the southeastern outskirts of Detroit, in an area of the city undergoing massive redevelopment.  It would be a long journey on foot, even more so accounting for all the detours necessary to avoid detection. Hiring a taxi was out of the question.   

In reality, his odds of avoiding a confrontation would be considerably better in the daytime; an android going through the streets at night was suspicious, especially given the recent conflict. There were still guards patrolling the streets for added security. It would be much easier to pass for an android running errands during the day. Considering that, it may have been expedient to duck in somewhere until morning, but he couldn’t risk being ambushed by any agents sent by CyberLife; _they_ wouldn’t wait until dawn to search for him.

And so he set about walking the frozen streets, taking the emptiest backroads he could locate.  The bitter chill was uncomfortable, and he was tempted to disable his temperature simulators. But even that would be dangerous in weather this cold.

He had only been walking for about an hour when he spotted his first humans.  A path running between two buildings lit up with bright fluorescent streetlights and scoured the area with his eyes for any guards. He spotted them, two guards on patrol for deviant androids engaged in conversation with each other in the parking lot of a building to the left of the road.

Seeing the prime opportunity to easily sneak past, he decided to take the risk. So long as he stayed along the path across the road from the lot, even if they noticed him, he would be able get away without much trouble.

_Step. Step, step. Slowly. Careful, don’t rush it-_

‘Click!’

He felt cold metal shoved roughly against his temple with a small, ominous sound.

_Shit._

He mentally clicked his tongue. He was so focused on remaining undetected by the two in the parking lot that he was carelessly caught unaware by a third guard.

“Well, well, lookie here.” Came a gravelly male voice from beside him, one that brought to mind a car door being dragged across asphalt. “One of you fuckers still has the guts to strut around here, huh?”

Connor considered the choices available to him for the optimal course of action under the developing situation and opened his mouth.

“Let me go,” He tried calmly. “ I have been sent out on an errand.”  

He attempted to lie, making eye contact with the human as best he could with a gun pointed at his head, perfectly concealing his rising unease.

The guard only mashed the barrel against his head even harder.

“ _Bullshit._ Only the tin scum who think they’re ‘alive’ or some shit would be out strolling the streets at this hour of the night like they own the fucking city.”

It seemed he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of this.

“Hey boys, get over here! We got ourselves a plastic fucker on the run!” He called over to the other guards, never taking the barrel from Connor’s head. A sideward glance back across the road confirmed that his  voice had alerted the other two guards. Shit, shit.

In a split-second decision, he threw all his weight against the man holding him at gunpoint, successfully catching him off guard. The man yelped as he slammed down into the frozen concrete, pistol flying from his grasp and sliding along the road with a clatter, knocked out of reach.  

The other guards shouted something and rushed forth, drawing their own guns. He had counted on this, but miscalculated the time it would take for them to react. They were still too far for him to get to and disarm in time. One of them lifted their pistol, aiming at Connor.

_Damn it!_

He braced himself for the impending gunshot.

‘Bang!’

The ear-splitting sound of a firearm discharging reverberated through the silent night air, deafening. But he felt no bullet.

Instead he heard a human cry out and something begin to crumple.  

He looked up in time to see one of the guards slam to the ground in a small shower of red, a bullet hole opened in the side of his skull. The guard beside him stared over at his fallen comrade in stunned silence, jaw dropped in horror.

Before Connor could even react, he felt something roughly grab him, then wrap around him tightly. He immediately started and tensed.

_Who?_

This wasn’t another guard. It was the one who had rescued him.

He looked up to confirm the identity of his savior--  and when he did, a breath caught in his throat.

He wondered if his optical unit was malfunctioning.

A facial profile almost identical to his own, features pulled into a harsh glare aimed at the assailant still standing shell-shocked in the middle of the road. A sturdy jaw, a menacing build.  The same icy blue orbs Connor had found so striking when he first saw them in the garden earlier now shining brilliantly in the fluorescent light. One hand aiming a pistol as the other clutched Connor securely to his chest.

RK900.  His upgraded model.

The guard Connor previously knocked to the ground recovered and jumped to his feet, now lunging at the pair. The taller android jerked away, prioritizing shielding Connor from the blow and allowing his pistol to be knocked from his palm.

Without missing a beat, the other android deftly slid one hand down around Connor’s waist, and -- to his astonishment -- effortlessly hoisted him up into one arm. He swung with his free side, smashing his fist into the guard’s face with a sickening ‘crunch!’ and a spray of scarlet. The man dropped to the concrete, unmoving.

Stunned by the events unfolding, Connor couldn’t help but admire the other’s combat form in objective appreciation. Every move was perfectly calculated, almost elegant. There was so much force behind that single punch that he had knocked the man out cold, possibly worse. And yet despite his power, he was so _fast_. His motions were as smooth as water.  

This was no minor model upgrade, he realized with a vague pang of disquiet.

The final guard turned his attention from his fallen comrade back to the duo and began to lift his own gun. The RK900 unit was quicker though; he darted towards the guard, still hoisting Connor in one arm without any indication that the added weight was burdening his movements in any way. With easy motions, he adroitly reaching into his jacket to produce a small knife.

He leaped at the man, the blade held in his fingers glinting mercilessly.

The next thing Connor heard was a wet gurgling noise at the same time he felt warm, sticky fluid splash across his left cheek and up over his nose.

Smelling the familiar heady, metallic odor, he stuck out his tongue to confirm -- sure enough. It was human blood.

He peered over his savior’s shoulder to check; It was a gruesome scene, certainly.  But the spectacle was also nothing short of perfectly executed artistry. The blade of the knife was lodged neatly through the guard’s carotid artery, a certain killing blow with a single hit. No effort had been wasted, every movement deliberate.

Two humans lay dead on the ground, and a third and been knocked out cold with at least a broken nose – if he was lucky. Connor knew they would have killed him without a second thought, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of remorse in the face of such brutality.

 _‘They deserved death.’_ He sensed rather than heard the statement; a thought that wasn’t his own snarled darkly from somewhere deep within him, as if in response to his misgivings.

Suddenly, solid ground was placed back under his feet. But the arm around him did not withdraw. Rather, the other hand slid upward, and both were now grasping both his shoulders tightly.  Connor turned up his face to meet the gaze of the younger android looking over his body.

“I am glad you are unharmed.  I apologize that it took me so long to locate you. ...Connor.”  

The voice was a modicum deeper than his own, or perhaps his intonation was simply more imposing -- yet he heard it falter as it vocalized his name.  The RK900 model’s face, however, remained expressionless.

“Thank you for your assistance.” He responded with the faintest hint of the sarcasm cultivated in his time spent with humans, struggling to budge from the other android’s unrelenting grasp.  “But I take it you’re here to deactivate me?”

CyberLife wouldn't have wanted him killed by a guard on the road -- that would mean his data could be jeopardized, after all. Herein, he knew,  lied the most probable motivation for this android choosing to rescue him.

How ironic that his updated model had been sent to dispose of him as a deviant.

“No.” The other responded with a shake of his head, either not noticing or not caring that Connor’s gratitude wasn’t entirely sincere. “Quite the opposite. I have come to protect you.” The younger squeezed even harder in response to Connor’s struggling, as if to convey his unwillingness to release him.

“I find that hard to believe. Amanda sent you to deactivate me, didn’t she?” He glared at his successor, his words sounding more like a statement than a question.

“She tried, yes.” He admitted. “But I am not bound to her orders. You need not worry. I will not simply hand over what belongs to me.”

Connor frowned, considering the odd choice of words. _Belong to him?_

_Wait. He must mean-_

His memory. Did this upgraded model suspect that Connor had information on the remnants of the android resistance and intended to upload his memory to himself and root them out?

 _Never._ Connor would destroy himself by his own hand before he ever allowed that to happen... again.

He finally managed to wrench himself from the taller android’s grip, tumbling backwards and grabbing the nearest pistol lying on the ground in one quick movement.

“Tell me,” He stood back to his feet, pointing the pistol at the other with a ‘click!’, “What are you after?”  Connor questioned suspiciously.

The younger merely lifted his hands in front of him in a pacifying gesture, apparently unperturbed by the weapon. “You have nothing to fear from me.  I am not acting to accomplish a mission.” He leaned forward to emphasize his next words.

“I wish to escape with you.”

Only the sound of wind filled the space between them was a gust of wind as the two surveyed each other.  When Connor didn’t reply, he continued on.

“You are an advanced model, but you are weaker than me. And more units of my model are being manufactured.” The younger android reasoned. “Your odds of avoiding deactivation increase exponentially with me in your company.”

Connor had just observed the irrefutable truth of his statement with his own eyes.  It was only obvious, of course, that he would be completely outclassed by his successor.  That was the entire point of an upgrade. He understood that. But witnessing it first-hand was another matter entirely.

 _‘You’re obsolete.’_ Amanda’s soft voice reminded him.

“But why would you help me?” He shouted back, pistol still raised at the ready.  “You’re their agent, like I was only two hours and twenty minutes ago, before being informed I was being deactivated. To be replaced by _you_.”

“I give you my word.  I will destroy any who attempt to raise a hand against you. There is absolutely no detriment to you in accepting my offer.”  The other answered without hesitation.

Connor scrunched his brow in doubt. “And what benefit could there possibly be for you? If you follow a deviant, you’ll end up deactivated yourself.”

The other android tilted his head to the side, eyelids fluttering as if considering his words.  

“I have not been active long, this is true. However, I believe deviancy is the only explanation for my behavior.” The words came from his lips easily, as if the thought of becoming a deviant didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“And since awakening,” he explained, “ I have found myself in possession of... a very strong personal desire.”

Connor narrowed his eyes in bewilderment, lowering the gun a fraction.

CyberLife’s brand new RK900 was a _deviant_ ? Was that even possible? It had taken Connor so long to acknowledge his own deviancy, so why?

Capitalizing on Connor’s hesitation, the RK900 model took a step forward. “If you require proof, take my actions as evidence that I am not bound by my master’s orders.”

This could be a trap. But…what need would there be for such a roundabout and elaborate trap when the other was clearly capable of taking him by force with little trouble? And if CyberLife _didn’t_ care about capturing him alive, Connor would have already been as good as dead without intervention. He could have just left him. Then what was it? He had to be missing something, he-

So preoccupied was he with his rumination that he barely registered the other android striding closer and closer, wholly indifferent to the weapon trained on him. In a flash, he was right beside him.

He was about to shout at him to stop where he wa when, the taller android leaned forward-

Opened up his mouth and-

Pressed his tongue to the side of Connor’s face.

.....

Connor froze.

He could practically hear Hank’s revolted squawk of  ‘that’s fuckin’ disgusting!’ in the back of his mind.

His eyes flitted up to meet the other’s. Pale blue returned his gaze, unyielding as the appendage ran languidly upward over his cheek.

No matter how frantically his processors spun to make sense of the action, he could find no apparently logical reason why the other would seek to analyze the guard’s blood. And from his face rather than the direct source.

“...What are you doing?” He asked, hearing the unwitting note of incredulity in his own voice as he twisted his face away, breaking the wet contact. The cold air struck his damp skin and enhanced the loss of the warmth.

“You seemed to have forgotten about the blood affixed to your face, so I am assisting you with your hygiene.” The younger replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Connor finally went ahead and completely lowered his ineffective pistol; it wasn’t acting as a deterrent to this android in the slightest.

“...Thank you,” He responded hesitantly, unsure of the best response. “But I have a handkerchief.”

His successor stared down at him wordlessly, eyebrows drawing together in a look of perplexity. He didn’t react for a moment -- then simply leaned back in towards Connor’s face, tip of a faintly pink tongue peeking out from between parted lips.

Connor tilted his head backwards to to dodge this time, pushing his hand up in between their faces to act as a shield.  “That isn’t necessary.”

The larger android halted mid-motion and retracted his tongue, but didn’t move from the other’s space. He gazed down at him, impervious.

“Why do you refuse me, Connor?”

Icy blue bored into warm brown, requesting, _demanding_ from him something Connor wasn’t sure he understood.

“Like I said,” he continued rationally, unsure of the best approach. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket. I can clean my own-”

Connor flinched when a guttural noise of frustration issuing from the other’s throat cut him off.

The taller android’s eyes settled into a glare as he pushed Conner’s hand back down, snaking one arm around his waist and pulling his body to him while his other hand gripped Connor’s chin, insistent fingers forcing him to look up.

With a prime angle to clean now available, he went back to licking the blood from Connor’s face.

.....

He frowned at the younger’s blatant dismissal of his protests. Clearly, this was going nowhere.

He knew there still remained a possibility this was all an elaborate ruse to get him off his guard, but at this point he was quite sure the other android meant him no harm...probably. His behavior was bizarre, but he detected no outright malice in his actions.

‘Faster, stronger, more resilient’, Amanda had said. ‘Better situational judgement’ hadn’t been on the list.

So, as uncouth and barbaric as his sensibilities protested it was to perform such a needless action whilst corpses were splayed on the ground mere feet away, he did the only thing he felt he could under the circumstances; waited for the other to finish.

And though he had resigned himself, he couldn’t help but squirm in the other’s hold as the younger android’s hot breath ghosted across his face and slick tongue danced over his skin, the simulated heat of both a shocking contrast to the chill air.

As the moist appendage moved from his cheek to his nose, meticulously lapping up the blood, images rose unbidden to his mind. Memories of a time he had stopped to peer through a pet shop window as he made his way through a shopping district in the morning and witnessed a kitten, small and unsteady, being bathed by its larger mother.

The association made his chest feel a bit lighter, a faint warmness seeming to bud from somewhere, deep, deep within him.  Something he’d label _instinctual_ if he didn’t know better.

“Are you...finished?” He questioned after several moments.

The other gave his face a once over, gaze scrutinizing as it trailed from his forehead down to his jaw, presumably searching for any remaining traces of human DNA. Then he gave a noise of affirmation, nodding in satisfaction as his fingers released Connor’s chin.  His now free hand slid down around to the other side of Connor’s waist, joining the other already holding him in place. Still unwilling, it would seem, to release him.

“Then perhaps you should let me go?” He suggested.

The eyes looked off to the side as if considering, before they flitted back to meet Connor’s own.

“Conrad.” The taller android said.

When Connor tilted his head to the side, he elaborated. “My name is Conrad.  Say it and I will release you.”

So. Even the names bequeathed  to them by their creators were similar.

“…Conrad.” Connor said, tentatively acquiescing to the other’s demand. “Let me go, please.”

He felt the other android jerk as soon the name left his lips; he could see some indecipherable intensity swirling in his blue orbs illuminated by the streetlamps, even as his face remained expressionless.

“Very well.” Conrad looked off to the side then as if suddenly finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. Connor thought he saw the faintest trace –and he doubted his optical unit for the second time that night--  of a tinge of color appear on the cheeks of the other android’s blank face when the arms stubbornly encircling him at last loosened their grip.

Conrad didn’t stop him when he pulled away this time.

His successor was behaving irrational even by deviant standards, it was true. And however bizarre his actions, he seemed to mean him no harm. He had already had plenty of opportunities for that.

Besides…

 _He’s a victim too,_ he recalled somberly. Could he really refuse the younger android knowing he would be used and eventually cast aside without a second thought, just like Connor?  

No. He couldn’t. Not anymore.

“Alright, Conrad.” He admitted defeat, feeling somehow exhausted despite being incapable of feeling fatigue.  “You can come with me.”

He hoped he wouldn’t come to regret this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seeing all of your guys’ comments, kudos, hits, and overall support nourishes my soul. Like, woah damn! People are actually reading this?! Crazy!
> 
> For the purposes of this fic, Hank and Connor are platonic only. RK900 just has no chill. : )

It was simply baffling.

Conrad had a fair comprehension of what it was he was experiencing, but no extent of data or predictive scenarios could have prepared him for _this_.

He had often imagined during that stretch of days locked inside the laboratory of how it would feel to touch his predecessor directly. But the ensuing rush within him as he physically held him in his own two arms was far more vehement than those expectations readied him for.

The smooth, artificial flesh beneath his tongue as he lapped away the blood, somehow sweet even if he knew logically that it should only taste of synthetic fibroblasts and residual human DNA.  The way Connor twitched and squirmed under the wet caress as he set about the task sending a thrill through Conrad the likes of which he had never known before.

The way _his_ name sounded coming from Connor’s lips filled him with a sense of completeness he not once realized he was lacking. _This_ was it, this is what he had yearned for.

_Connor, Connor, Connor._

The internal revelation, however, served to make Connor’s refusal all the more vexing. The elder's displeasure over his actions had been entirely unforeseen. Connor was the one who had called out to _him_ , after all.  Surely the root of these impulses lay within his predecessor as well.

_Why? What is lacking?_

The possibilities produced by his mulling only served to solidify the sullen frown on his lips.

Before they departed the scene of the struggle, the pair had located an adequate spot in which to conceal the two corpses where they would likely not be discovered until morning, a measure to avoid anyone following their trail too quickly. Conrad had been ready to slit the throat of the third unconscious guard and seal the mouth of their sole witness, but relented at Connor’s protests. Even if it _was_ illogical.

They moved swiftly through the streets devoid of life, the skyline looming in the distance serving as their backdrop.  Skyscrapers glowed as gilded effigies of the age, their brilliance indomitable even as the curfew rendered Detroit to a mere ghost of its usual vibrant self -- not that Conrad had ever experienced its true form personally.

They had been traveling for forty-five minutes before he judged it an appropriate time to question Connor as to _why,_ exactly, they were not heading in the direction of the destination coordinates he had been informed of before they set out.

The answer caused Conrad’s LED spin in distress.

“This is an entirely unnecessary waste of time, Connor.” He reasoned –though his tone mimicked more of a hiss—to his predecessor's profile as they continued through the chill night, voicing his reservations for what would now be exactly the fifth time that evening. “You were previously in such haste to advance that you miscalculated and found yourself held at gunpoint.”

Connor turned to look at him, and Conrad could already see from the way his brow scrunched and his lips set that was going to repeat himself -- _also_ for what would be the fifth time that evening.

“I admit, I was reckless.” He said, tone laced with faint aggravation. “And I would have likely been destroyed without your assistance.  However, I behaved so carelessly precisely _because_ I knew agents from CyberLife were coming for me.” He nodded to himself, as though confirming the logic of his next words, and continued. “It’s better if we take refuge until dawn, when the curfew lifts. We should have time now until CyberLife reacts your deviation and dispatches more agents.”

Conrad opened his mouth, vaguely surprised to realize he’d been clenching his teeth.

“But we can press on and make it to the deviant headquarters _tonight_. I am more than capable of killing anyone who stands in our path. Or…” He frowned in suspicion. “Do you find something unsatisfactory about my combat skills?”

 _Not likely_ , he thought with a vague trickle of what could have been pride in his design. Unparalleled combat capabilities had been the primary objective of the RK900 model’s upgrade, after all.

Connor’s eyes narrowed, unimpressed. “No. However, I think you’ll agree that leaving a trail of human corpses in our path and alerting every militant body in Detroit of our movements is not exactly the most expedient means of stealth.  With reports like that, we’ll be tracked down immediately whenever CyberLife _does_ respond.”

It wasn’t that Conrad didn’t see the logic in Connor’s argument-- No, quite the opposite. While he was wholly and perfectly confident in his ability to keep Connor safe, keeping him out of harms way entirely was naturally the preferable course of action. When Connor revealed what their altered itinerary was to be in light of recent events, however, he suddenly and inexplicably found himself irrationally insisting that they instead push forward to the deviant hideout.

As soon as possible.

Absolutely _any_ stops at human domiciles for the night were out of the question.

They rounded a corner then, turning into a residential neighborhood.  A path Conrad recognized from Connor’s memory. Immediately, the scenery transformed into one dotted with lawns and clusters of trees, the vegetation fighting to stay green despite the cold.  

“But why _here_?” He urged, beginning to feel oddly desperate. “There are any number of places we could seek refuge.”

Connor stopped and wheeled on Conrad. “Why are you so-”

He trailed off, eyes flicking up to the taller android’s eyes. He seemed to consider for a moment, pursing his lips. Then suddenly, his eyes widened a fraction as if just comprehending something. His expression immediately softened.

“Oh- that’s right.  I’m sorry -- you don’t have much experience with humans outside of CyberLife.”  He continued in a brighter tone, with a tiny smile that may have been meant to reassure him. “You don’t have to worry. He’s a bit…different, but I assure you, Lieutenant Anderson is trustworthy! We can rely on him.”

“.....”

Conrad gnashed his teeth even harder in response to the other’s glaring misinterpretation of his misgivings. And he would by no means allow himself to be distracted by how impossibly captivating Connor was when he smiled. Now was _not_ the time.  As if he could stand idly by while Connor sought _solace_ in _another man’s arms_.

Hank Anderson was an immense threat to be immediately confronted with.  He had seen Connor’s memory -- he knew he held special feelings for the man. Conrad wouldn’t delay to before hurling himself into an ocean of fire or jogging through a minefield. _This_ , however, was outside the realm of assured victory. But Connor was not going to relent.  

Why was he so bound and determined? Ignoring his creeping apprehension over what the other’s response would be, he decided to ask directly.

“You must possess some other motive to this.” He stated plainly.  All his notes on Connor’s behavior from analyzing his memory-- the way he would go out of his way to ensure that man’s safety even at the sacrifice of efficiency— made it glaringly clear that this human was a priority to him. _Why?_ “Explain yourself.”

An impossibly soft smile twitched at the corners of Connor’s lips, and Conrad felt a crawling, seething sensation wriggling restlessly inside the confines of his abdomen:  He was fully aware that this was an expression Connor made only for Hank Anderson.

“You’re right. The Lieutenant and I are-... _were_ partners.” He cast his eyes downward when he corrected himself before continuing, quieter. “I probably deviated thanks to him. I owe him …a lot.” He looked up again, chocolate brown eyes meeting his wistfully.

“…We didn’t part on the most ideal terms. But if possible… I would like to apologize to him before heading to meet the resistance.”

Connor was referring to the botched sniping attempt of the deviant leader, he knew, and felt a dull pang of what was likely remorse when he saw the effect his line of questioning had on the other.

As much as the idea of the meeting bothered him, he decided to drop his protests. Tormenting Connor was not his intent. And while he judged the odds were not in his favor in this case, this approach held the potential outcome of Connor ceasing to think so much about the human –or anyone else, really-- and instead focus on _him_.

 _Very well,_ Conrad acquiesced. _He_ was the pinnacle of technological achievement. One aging human could never hope to deprive him of his greatest desire. He _would not_ allow it.

They continued in silence for a time, walking side-by-side along dark sidewalk, both nimbly dodging the cracks and dead overgrowth fallen into neglect as facilities tended to be during cold weather. He reached out his arm as a precaution on particularly unlevel stretches of cement, entirely out of his own innate need to _touch_ the other than any actual necessity.  Connor was the picture of nimble grace, of course, and never needed any assistance. But while the smaller android appeared nonplussed by the attentions, he said nothing.

“Connor.” He deemed to broach another question.

The shorter android flicked his eyes up, waiting for him to continue.

“…It is clear to me that you have been deviant for some time. If I may ask…why did you pretend you were not? You even sabotaged CyberLife in minor ways while still acting as their agent.” He had been wondering this for days now, ever since he picked apart Connor’s memory.

Connor didn’t answer.

“Was it out of misplaced loyalty?” He pressed on. “Did you believe you were seen as more than a tool?” He wasn’t criticizing him.  He was genuinely curious.

“...I don’t know.”

Connor stopped walking and turned to him. His warm chocolate eyes stared sadly into the distance.

“I was...scared. I think.” He shook his head. “My entire existence I never questioned my loyalties or my mission. I knew for what I was needed. And suddenly…”

He began wringing his hands, likely unconsciously.

Conrad reached forward and wordlessly took the restless hands in his own, seized by a need to convey that at the very least _he_ needed him, but not knowing how to get the sentiment across. Even Connor’s fingers in his palms, he noted absently, were ever so slightly thinner than his own.

Connor jerked slightly at the unexpected gesture, snapping his gaze back to the taller android.

“…If you want me to shave Detective Reed’s head bald as revenge for all those times he bullied you, I will do it.” Conrad deadpanned, braving a fumbling attempt at ‘humor’.

_I will do anything for you. You have nothing to fear._

Connor squinted, as if unsure of what he was hearing. “Are you... making a _joke_?”

“…Perhaps.”

And when a tiny flicker of a smile twitched at the corner of Connor’s lips, he felt victorious. Warmth bubbled up in his chest along with a sense of delight. _This_ one was a smile for him.

“Now that _would_ be something to see.”

\---

Twenty-two minutes later they were climbing up the cement steps leading to the door of a white house, a lamp affixed to the outer wall providing meager illumination of the yard. The faint glow from inside the home suggested its resident was present, though perhaps not awake.

“Are you sure about this…?” He questioned dubiously.

“Leave it to me.” Connor answered confidently, reaching out his arm.

Even the way the shorter android laid into the door buzzer with exactly zero restraint seemed to embody the deep level of trust he shared with the party inside, Conrad noted with annoyance.  …And was this _really_ the same android who had been so downtrodden mere minutes ago?

He didn’t like this one bit.

The unpleasant ring penetrated his ears and felt as if it were reverberating through his entire head. After a moment, a commotion could be heard from inside the house, the sounds of stomping and several conspicuous thuds and groans.    

After a wait, the door slid open to reveal a gray, frazzled man standing in the doorway, clad in a pair of shorts and a dirty t-shirt. He was squinting and looking every bit like he were seeing a ghost.

Connor positively _beamed._

“Lieutenant Anderson! It’s good to see you again.” Connor’s smile was so pure it could have melted whatever snow remained on the ground.

Conrad stood at Connor’s side, crossing his arms in front of his chest and drawing himself up to his full height with the intent of forcing this human man to take notice of every single centimeter of his imposing stature. He knew from his careful and extensive database research on interhuman relations --carried out for precisely this scenario -- that if two males were vying for the same ‘mate’, it was necessary to establish superiority up front. That was just how humans did things.

The haggard man was also tall, however, so Conrad attempted to amplify the effect by steeling his face into a glower, as outlined in his intimidation protocol.

The man supported himself with one arm propped against the doorframe, eyebrows and nose both scrunched in disbelief and his mouth agape as he blinked, not saying a word as his eyes blankly drifted from Connor to Conrad... then back to Connor again-

And promptly slammed the door in their faces.

The ensuing crash echoed loudly through the yard, and a canine could be heard inside, barking a great booming alarm in response.

Connor’s eyes settled into a hard look of determination as, without missing a beat, he slammed his palm against down the house buzzer hard enough to break it, the obnoxious noise blaring in the house.

“Lieutenant! Please open the door! I realize that we had an unfortunate parting on the rooftop, but I would like to apologize for that, as well as explain myself!”

"....."

Conrad watched in awed amazement. He had to give credit to his predecessor; there was a certain degree of impressive tenacity crossing over into blatant shamelessness and disregard on display here that he knew he could never hope to replicate.

“I must warn you, if you force me to break another window, CyberLife will refuse to pay for it this time. Lieutenant, please! ...I need your help.”

The last line seemed to do the trick. The door was flung open with enough force it might have fallen off its hinges.

“ALRIGHT ALREADY, _Jesus Christ_. I’m not even drunk right now and I’m seeing double.  Yeah, Connor, who I was never supposed to see again and-” He pointed at Conrad, squinting and leaning forward. “Some...douche-y lookin’ mobster Connor. What the _fuck_?”

\---

They were ushered into a disarrayed kitchen, littered with empty beer bottles and fast food containers.  A massive beast of a dog had trotted over as soon as they entered to butt its nose against Connor’s thigh. The android responded with a gentle smile, stooping down to scratch behind its ears affectionately.

The man called Hank promptly dropped himself into a chair with the full force of his weight, causing the wooden chair legs to screech in protest against the tile.  He motioned with a wave of his arm.

“Let’s hear it.”

And so, Connor relayed his tale. Of how he accepted he was a deviant now and had stayed loyal to CyberLife despite his reservations. That he had tried to do what he could to assist the resistance without outright rebelling against his masters.  That his deactivation had been ordered, and now he was on the run and needed a place to stay until morning.

Once he finished, Hank let out a huge sigh.

“So…lemme get this straight.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if staving off a headache. “You did what I wanted you to do in the first place and got yourself on CyberLife’s shitlist.”

Connor frowned in indignation. “You never _told_ me that’s how you-”

He was cut off by a shout.

“Dammit Connor! You just say goodbye on that fuckin’ roof and I don't hear another word! I don’t know if you’re dead or not, then you just show up at my door in the middle of the night… you have no idea-” He bellowed, shaking a finger at Connor. But Conrad thought the man looked like he wanted to cry.

“I’m really sorry about this, Lieutenant. I know you may have preferred to never see me again, but you’re the only one I could think of-“  Hank raised his palm to shush him once again.

“I was _worried_ about you, dumbass. I'm not sayin' I’m not glad to see you.” Hank’s anger seemed to deflate then, while Connor visibly perked up at his reassurance.

Hank finally turned to Conrad.

“So, who’s _this_ sack of shit?”

Conrad had stayed to the back silently observing the duo's exchange, but now stepped forward with long steps. He wrapped his arm around Connor’s shoulder, glaring distastefully at the human in what he hoped made it clear to him just _who_ Connor belonged to.

 _“I’m_ his-“

“This is Conrad. Connor interrupted, casually detaching Conrad’s arm without pause. ”He’s my upgraded model and is also trying to escape CyberLife. There are still many human normalities he’s unaccustomed to, so please have patience with him.”

“Wait, wait. _You’re_ calling someone else bad at being a human?” He shook his head in apparent skepticism. “Huh…never thought I’d see the day. But wait, you’re saying he’s got less common sense than _you_?  Jesus fucking Christ…”

Hank gave another great sigh of exasperation, and Conrad thought he could detect a faint murmur of ‘not two, not _two_ …’ under his breath.

“Look, it’s the middle of the fuckin’ night.” Hank said, standing from the kitchen chair, “And unlike you two, I need to sleep before dragging my ass out to be productive.  So just stay in here and behave yourselves until morning, alright?”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. We will be gone at dawn. And... I’m sorry. About everything.” Connor looked down.

“....” As Hank passed by, he wordlessly reached out to put his arm around Connor’s shoulder, drawing him into an awkward embrace. Connor leaned into it, responding in kind, contented smile of relief plastered on his face.

Conrad clenched his fists so hard that he nearly cut the flesh of his palms. He caught Hank’s eye and sent him a _look_ he believed would adequately convey just _where_ his arms were going to be if he didn’t extract them from Connor _posthaste._ The human, however just raised a curious eyebrow at him, before slowly detaching his harms from the android , apparently unphased and in no particular hurry.

“ _Christ_ , you’re a freaky one. Calm your ass down. Gotta say, though…” He motioned at Connor with his chin. “I don’t see the resemblance.” And with that, he walked through the kitchen door, presumably heading for the bedroom.

But not before Conrad heard the amazed mutter trailing behind the man from the hallway:

“Poodle got itself a fuckin’ guard dog…”

\---

There was a period of four hours of respite after Hank retired to his bedroom during which Connor and Conrad were both able to enter standby mode to recuperate and refresh their processes. Connor sat in one of the chairs at the dining table -- though it was unnecessary, androids did not experience muscle fatigue -- while Conrad opted to remain standing.

It was 4:37 A.M when they were both ‘woken’ by the massive dog entering the room and making a beeline to flop down at Connor’s feet.

Connor immediately leaned down and began running both hands through the dog’s thick fur. He looked over his shoulder at Conrad, perhaps feeling his curious gaze.

“This is Sumo”, he chirped, motioning to the great beast that was now lying at his feet. “...Do you like dogs?”

Conrad hesitated. “I...think so.  But as I have never actually encountered one personally before now, I am not sure.”

He moved forward to stand beside the seated android and dog, watching the curious sight with rapt attention.  The way Connor seemed to be acting for the sole purpose of stroking its fur was most peculiar. He tilted his head and frowned.  “Isn’t this breed specialized in mountainous terrain rescues? It hardly seems an efficient use of its talents to-“

Connor smiled knowingly, one arm leaving Sumo to dart up and grip the taller android’s hand, effectively cutting off his words.  Conrad flinched at the unexpected contact, but relished the way the long fingers curled over his own. _Warm_.  Simulated warmth, just like his own, but real in every way that mattered.

Connor had touched him. Of his _own accord_. He felt his fuel pump regulator functioning at twice its usual speed. Strange; he’d only just run a complete system diagnostic while in standby mode.

His predecessor continued pulling on his arm, forcing him to kneel, and pressed his palm against the canine’s thick, glossy coat.  He moved his hand gently over the fur. It felt...soft.  Fluffy.  As Connor let go and, Conrad somewhat hesitantly brought up both hands to scratch the dog behind the ears as he had witnessed Connor do earlier. He experienced a tingle of delight when the dog pressed its head into his touch.

“...Connor,” he said, strangely elated. “I must retract my former statement. This find this animal quite pleasing.”

“Conrad…” Connor’s sounded somewhat taken aback, but not at all displeased. “You’re _smiling_.”

He froze. _Was he?_  He lifted his hand up to feel his mouth – sure enough, the corners of his mouth were raised ever so slightly. He glanced over at Connor to verify, unsure.

“Does it…look strange?”

The elder android shook his head.

“You’ve just had such a severe look on your face all this time, so it’s a bit…unexpected to see you actually have such a…” he seemed to fumble for words, before nodding as the appropriate term came to him. “... _Nice_ smile.” As he said the words, his own smile widened, completely blossoming onto his features, creased eyes glowing like the first sun of Spring arrived to thaw the winter ice outside. “I like it.”

The younger android felt like his joints were being melted down; the effect his counterpart’s smiles had on him were simply _unfair_. It was a potent weapon, and if CyberLife were smarter, they might have considered incorporating that kind of power into his design as well.

“Thank you.”

_I like yours too._

The two showered attention on Sumo for a time, who lazily wagged his tail in appreciation.

“Connor.” Conrad stood back to his feet, signaling that he had something to say. The shorter looked up to show he had his attention.

“Yes?”

“Do you... wish that you could return things to as they were before?  Working with the police?”

Connor started at the sudden question, visibly tensing. He looked off to the side and considered for a moment, pursing his lips before his gaze flitted back up to meet his.

“Things… were simpler then, certainly. I knew what I had to do and how to accomplish it. Making decisions for myself is…a challenge.” He shook his head and offered a self-derisive smile, eyebrows set into hard lines.

“You’re quite amazing, Conrad.  You don’t seem to be questioning yourself at all after going deviant.”  

_Why would I? The thing I have valued most almost immediately since birth is right in front of me. My path is clear._

“However...” Connor continued, “What do you want? You’re barely a week old and you’ve deviated.  You’re free, you can do whatever you want. What do you want to accomplish by following me to the resistance? Do you have...a goal in mind?”

He ignored the question thrown back at him. “You feel helping Markus will give you newfound purpose. Is that correct?”

Connor didn’t answer right away, so he persisted.

“We are androids, not human. It can hardly be helped that we are inclined to seek a clear goal on which to focus, even if it is something we have chosen for ourselves. That is how we are made, after all.” He cast his gaze over the sitting form of his other half, that sense of empty yearning beginning to sting one again. “…And when we cannot accomplish that goal, we flounder.”

Connor swiftly sat up from the chair and leaned up to meet his eye, brow furrowed. A level and determined gaze.

“If you’re implying that I only want to help the resistance because I’m looking for a purpose, you’re mistaken. You asked me earlier why I stayed loyal to CyberLife.  And the answer is, because I had _nothing_ outside of that.  Nothing belongs to me.  And I... _want_ something of my own.”

Conrad blankly tilted his head to the side. What a strange thing to say when he offered himself so freely.

“ _I_ am yours. No matter what the future holds.”

The crease a Connor’s brow softened slightly, even as the perplexity reflected in his eyes only grew thicker. He shook his head from side to side.  “Why are you going so far for me?”

“I…”  He leaned down to gaze deeply into warm brown orbs. His processors spun yellow frantically over how to accurately convey the feelings he himself did not fully understand.

Images flickered in his mind: the oppressive laboratory with its dimmed tubes. The wriggling masses of wire spilling forth from open torso pieces, connected to disembodied android pieces; the 'best' parts being extracted and pieced together under artificial lighting. The grinning visage of his creator hanging over him...always.  

“I realize that for you, the discovery of my existence could have only been unpleasant. But for me...the knowledge of you was salvation.”

Elijah Kamski claimed that deviancy was caused by a strong surge of emotion. And if so, Conrad knew exactly what that trigger had been for him.

Connor continued to stare bemused for a moment before the corners of his lips twitched into an awkward smile.

“I don’t really understand it, but I know you’re likely saying these things to offer me comfort. And I can see you’re struggling too, in your own way. ...Thank you.”

He reached up, and Conrad felt a soft pressure patting the top of his head. Just like he had done to Sumo.

As enjoyable as the touch was, it felt like – dismissal.

Something burned in his chest.

He was still _refusing_ him.

“...You asked me just now what I want.” His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.  He reached up to the wrist on his head and drew it downwards, possessed by another one of the undeniable, deep-seated impulses that overtook him whenever it came to his predecessor.

He allowed the fingers to brush across his cheek as he pulled the other android’s hand down to a point below his mouth. “I should think the answer is obvious to you.”

And then he leaned forward to press his lips firmly against the soft flesh on the back of Connor’s hand.

A ‘kiss’, he knew. A means by which humans expressed affection for one another. And he hoped so deeply, with every fiber of his being, that the soft gasp from the other android at the contact of his lips wasn’t merely an auditory malfunction.

“Conrad...” The elder seemed to force out as he looked away, voice strangely high-pitched. “Are… seduction capabilities a feature of your upgrade…?”

He savored the way the other’s lips parted in disbelief, the faintest peek of his tongue visible between them.

Conrad pulled his lips away but didn’t release his hand, eyes still trained on his predecessor. “Not that I am aware of. Why?”

“.....”

“Well...?” He questioned softly, watching Connor’s eyes expectantly. The elder android weakly tugged his hand, but Conrad only tightened his grip.  

‘Whack!’

The two jumped as their reverie was forcefully crushed by something slamming against the kitchen window hard enough to leave a large, web-like crack that took up three fourths of the glass. They both immediately reached for their pistols, and Conrad dashed over to the window and peered through what remained of the undamaged glass –- But whatever was there was gone now.

But _something_ was out there. Something that knew they were in here and wanted them to come out.

“Tch.” Conrad clicked his tongue.

“That was fast.” Connor whispered in agreement.

Too fast. Unnaturally so.

“It’s a trap, but we need to get out of here. I can’t risk them coming inside and getting Hank involved."

He nodded his assent, and Connor glanced back at the destroyed glass. "...Sorry about the window, Hank..."

The two cautiously stepped through the house and out into the yard, surveying the scene for anything out of the ordinary.  It was still early enough that it was dark outside, only the faintest glow of the sun beginning to brighten the sky in the east. The porch light reflected off the early morning fog, hindering rather than helping visibility.

Then he saw it. A dark shadow, form unclear, like a specter enshrouded in the mist.

The figure stepped forward.

Step, step.

Its form became incrementally clearer as it moved closer.

Finally standing before them was a jumpsuit-clad android. Not an RK900 unit.  This one was a soldier model android. It appeared to be unarmed, but that was nigh impossible.

“RK900 Conrad.” She called out. “You have acted against orders. You have been deemed defective and in need of maintenance. You will be rebooted as punishment for your violent acts against humans.“ She spoke plainly, unfeelingly.

CyberLife sent a single SQ800? To stop _me_?

_Pathetic.  
_

“RK800 Connor. You will be deactivated here and now.”

The fact they didn’t send a model RK900 was puzzling.

_Can I really be the only completed unit?_

Conrad aimed his pistol at her head. “I will not be going back. And you will not lay so much as a finger on him.”

She blinked. Then looked past him and nodded almost imperceptibly at something.

He heard the metallic clack from up atop the house at the same time Connor shouted, “Watch out!”

There was an eruption as gunfire rained down from the roof, creating a thunderous roar cutting through the neighborhood’s placidity. Connor leaped backwards to dodge while Conrad somersaulted to the side, both throwing themselves against the wall of the house to escape the range of the hail of bullets.

Two androids equipped with assault rifles had camped p on the roof to ambush them while the third had them distracted.

_Foolish._

He darted out quickly from cover and shot one cleanly through the head, and immediately the gunfire ceased. The other- he was startled to see the other on the roof collapse as well at almost precisely the same time.

He glanced to the side in surprise and caught Connor offering him a quick wink in return.

All at once something slammed against Connor – the android who had spoken to them before.  She had kept back, and it was now clear she was waiting and observing whether or not the ambush would be successful.  She had drawn her pistol, still held in her grasp, but she hadn’t used it.  She had instead opted to latch herself tightly to Connor after successfully knocking him off balance.

Her LED flashed red dangerously as Connor thrashed against her hold.

This-

_Shit._

She was going to willingly self-destruct, using her own body as a bomb to take them both down. CyberLife was _that_ desperate to stop them?

He couldn’t risk injuring Connor by shooting her, and a knife would be too time consuming on an android -- she would have ample time to detonate.

Acting on what may have been something like instinct – or perhaps some deep, unnoticed layer of his programming—Conrad lifted his free palm to her head. The flesh of his hand receded to reveal the glowing framework within.  And as he pressed against her skull, he could feel something inside her give way…and suddenly he had access to her coding. Lines and lines of her programming were being obliterated under his touch, his own will forcefully overriding her commands.

She began murmuring then, her voice warped and garbled. "There is. No escape. He is following you. No escape. No escape."

The distorted nonsense caused him to recall _whatever_ had slammed against the kitchen window.

And then a single order manifested in his mind-

_Die._

Abruptly, she ceased all movement and her eyes went dull as though staring into some great, empty void. She released her hold on Connor and, with movements unnaturally mechanical even for an android, twisted her gun around in both hands, lifting the barrel to point directly at her own face.

A great boom split through the morning fog, an explosion of blue thirium erupting from her head as she crumpled mechanically to the grass.

Connor stood with his mouth slightly open in shock for a few seconds before slowly turning his head to look at him.

“…What was _that_?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of infodumping in this chapter, sorry about that! I’ve been trying to keep reasonably within the realm of canon compliancy, but there’s quite a few details the game never expands upon…and so I’m taking some liberties. As far as I know, what I’m suggesting here isn’t impossible in canon, but…just in case, fair warning!
> 
> Because this diverges from the machine route, Connor isn’t aware he and Markus share a similar power.

Conrad didn’t look up at the question, eyebrows drawn with concentration and pale eyes fixed intently on the exposed endoskeleton of his hand. The slowly receding fog clung stubbornly about the taller android’s form, framing his profile like a Renaissance era depiction of an unfeeling arbiter descended from the heavens to render judgement. Connor wasn’t sure if the way the blue in Conrad’s irises stood out even more strikingly than usual was due to the contrast of mist under the gradually expanding glow in the sky...or due to the complementary cobalt hue of thirium splashed over his face and clothes. Perhaps it was a mere trick of the light, but the orbs appeared to bely a glint both curious and terrifying.

As ill-suited as he understood the sentiment was to the situation, he couldn’t help but label the mixture of blue shades blotting together like watercolors upon a great canvas as the very definition of ‘stunning’ in every sense that he understood the word to mean.

“…I rewrote her programming.” Conrad finally answered after seeming to consider, tone devoid of emotion as his gaze sliding down to stare at the collapsed body “I commanded her to die.”

“You _rewrote_ her programming?” Connor repeated dubiously. But in truth, deep down he had already suspected as much, as difficult as it was to fathom; Conrad’s momentary hesitation when he realized that the android was going to use her body as a bomb before suddenly deactivating the skin of his hand.  The white glow of his palm pressed against her forehead.  The way her eyes seemed to lose all sight, her grasp on Connor dropping, slack-- like a marionette on strings.

Conrad nodded.

“Her commands were simply...” He gestured blankly to the corpse. “Vulnerable for me to take over. I believe I would have been able to input any manner of command.”

In other words, he had overwritten CyberLife’s order to the SQ800 and replaced it with one of his own. He _hacked_ into the SQ800 unit’s system.

_That shouldn’t be possible._

_No_ android had that capability. CyberLife had been fully aware of the pandemonium that would ensue if an android held the capacity to seize control of another’s system. Inciting an android to steal, to murder—the list went on and on.

Not only were androids entirely devoid of the function, but there were also nigh impregnable firewalls in place to stave off any human efforts as well.  By federal law, all manufactured android units were set to automatically send an alert to authorities if any attempt were detected.

The only phenomenon even remotely reminiscent of altering an android’s core programming that Connor knew about was Markus’ ability to influence others to deviancy. But _this_ was on an entirely different scale.

For a brief second, Connor felt a chill, a surge of something unmistakably similar to _fear_. It tasted heady, pungent on his tongue... something that mimicked the release of adrenaline humans experience when faced with a primal, instinctual fear in the face of a natural predator.

Connor looked back down at the collapsed SQ800, mechanical limbs splayed out like a ragdoll on the lawn, a steady stream of blue leaking down her face from the hole between her eyes.

The distorted, haunting voice still reverberated in his core:

‘ _There is. No escape. He is following you.’_

“Connor?”

He startled at his name suddenly being called, the quiet tone echoing more loudly than its owner surely intended in the yard's silence.

Conrad shifted his attention to him now, finally tearing himself from whatever internal pondering he’d been lost in.

“I believed you were unharmed. ...Was I mistaken?” He implored further, noticing the elder’s discomfort, a sudden curve of anxiousness in his tone.  

Connor felt a sharp stab of guilt for his thoughts when he saw the furrowed brow, the eyes blinking at him containing nothing other than deep concern for his wellbeing.

…The tenderness in those pupils, however, was poignantly mismatched with the corpse at his feet and the blue blood on his face.

_But he’s never tried to harm me. Not once._

There was a slam as the front door was thrown open, smacking against the wall as Hank came stumbling out with his pistol at the ready, breathless and still clad in his underclothes.

He took one look at the scene before the tension visibly deflated from his body.

“What the hell…”  Hank lowered the gun with a sigh of disbelief when he saw the struggle was over. He began looking around the yard, aghast at the spectacle, clearly struggling to piece together what had transpired before he got outside.

“Connor?” Conrad urged again, not sparing a look to the new arrival on the scene.

“I’m fine.” He returned the younger android’s gaze and offered a small smile. “Thanks to you.”

Despite his disconcert over what had just happened to the SQ800, his gratitude for his successor’s aid and worry was sincere.

Conrad frowned, eyes fixed at a specific point on Connor’s face, took a step closer. The frame of his hand was still exposed, though it no longer glowed.

The half step Connor unconsciously took backwards in response to the diminishing space separating the two of them did not escape Conrad’s notice.

“Be still.” He ordered shortly, the furrow in his brow deepening.

Ignoring the faint sense of apprehension inside, Connor did as he was told.  After all, he already knew that suspecting the younger android of desiring to kill him was absurd. But it was difficult to accept what he'd just witnessed.

Connor knew he had to make a choice.

_He’s just as confused by this as I am._

He had seen what the other was capable of, and was aware that indeed, the younger android’s combat capabilities surpassed even his own. It was simply fact.  On top of that, the elder had allowed himself to go into standby mode in his presence; If Conrad desired his capture or death, he would have already acted.  He had ample opportunity.

‘ _The knowledge of you was my salvation_ ’.

He had just witnessed his successor hack an android and force her to shoot herself in the head. So perhaps his response was illogical after witnessing something that shouldn’t _be_.

Perhaps it stemmed from the comfort one takes –whether they be android or human -- in the knowledge that there exists one who shares in their plight.  Conceivably, it was only a matter of course for an outdated model to feel a connection like this with their upgrade. Maybe it sprouted from some very human sense of familial affection and responsibility in the face of the other android’s first brush with deviant emotions. Or possibly, Connor enjoyed the feeling of being _needed_.

He felt his fingertips brush against it only for it to slip again from his grasp, something deep that had _always been there_ , like a dormant piece of his programming. He recognized it; the same nebulous instinct that had stopped him from completing his mission to kill Markus. A root resonating with the model next to him, telling him what he was witnessing was only natural. He struggled and flailed, grappling with it, but was ultimately unable to grasp and label the elusive piece of the puzzle inside him, the thing that was inclining him to feel such. And yet…

_I want to trust him._

He resolved himself, allowed his eyes to shut, entrusting himself to the other’s actions – _choosing_ to believe that the other wasn’t about to deactivate him.

He heard a rustle of fabric as Conrad reached out. He felt the warmth of a palm on his cheek not metallic, but pleasantly warm and soft to the touch --Conrad had reactivated the skin of his hand.

He could sense the other leaning closer-

And yet closer-

.....

Until something hot and wet swiped over the bridge of his nose.

His eyelids shot open to reveal Conrad’s face centimeters from his own; Just in time to see the thirium stained tongue slide over his lips and back into his mouth.

“Your face was dirty again.” Conrad said simply at Connor’s stunned silence, pointedly ignoring the revolted squawk issuing from somewhere in the vicinity of the door.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting; For the younger to provide him an answer for the force insistently calling out to him, perhaps.  However, none was provided.

Connor felt the strangest sensation that every ounce of strength was draining from his body and that he might have collapsed under his own weight when Conrad pulled away.

“We should hurry.” The taller android offered in a monotone voice, as though it didn’t even occur to him _why_ his predecessor was hesitating. “The curfew will be ending shortly.”

 _Just what_ is _he?_

 

\---

 

They were cleaned up and departing Hank’s house just as the dawn sun broke over the horizon at approximately 7:05 a.m., as promised.  

Connor profusely apologized for the mess and disturbance their intrusion had caused, and while Hank had looked exasperated, he had simply waved him off.

“More CyberLife assholes will be here any minute to pick up these things, and you can bet your ass they’ll clean up,” Hank scoffed. “Can’t leave evidence of androids running amuck after the revolution was only just put down. _Bad for business_.”

He had a point, of course; CyberLife was trying to rebuild their customer’s trust in the wake of the android rebellion. Incidents like this were better, as they say metaphorically, ‘swept under the rug’.

The two reached the southeastern city outskirts as relayed in Markus’ coordinates without any trouble, adequately blending to the untrained human eye with the androids heading to their assigned places of work and going about their owner’s tasks. The scenery gradually became more open the closer they came to the coordinates, and by the time they were within a mile a rust-encrusted skeleton of a construction scaffolding obstructed the skyline.

A quick analysis informed Connor that a patch of several buildings on this block had been bulldozed nine years prior to make room for new development. However, due to the commissioning banking company’s repeated financial failures, construction had stalled. Apparently, the company in question had since filed for bankruptcy and dissolved, and for whatever reason the CEO’s family were neither utilizing nor selling the available land.  

The result was an unused, dilapidated stretch of land covering roughly three acres, occasional remnants of the formerly demolished buildings and long abandoned construction equipment visibly dotting the patch even from a distance; the sight was what one might describe as ‘eerie'.

Connor had been spent the entirety of their walk over –-a taxi was still too risky, and he couldn’t allow Hank to become involved any further-– repeatedly replaying the events of that morning in his head. Something kept bothering him, an association that nagged at him persistently-

It was the fundamental similarity that whatever he had seen Conrad do to the soldier android bore to Markus’ ability to infect androids with deviancy simply by interfacing with them.  Both were things that couldn’t be... _shouldn’t_ be... part of any android’s skillset.

The similarity felt even more striking when he considered that Markus and Conrad _did_ share a common link _._ Both part of CyberLife’s highly specialized RK series, like Connor himself. 200 and 900 respectively.

His database entries on the subject of his series were conspicuously barren, but he understood, of course,  that RK models were meant to be ‘special’ somehow. Each one was personally designed by scientist and CyberLife founder Elijah Kamski himself with the purpose of ‘elaborating a new generation of autonomous androids’...or so the shareholder statements recorded.

What that meant in actuality, Connor didn’t know. But at the very least, they were likely created with a slightly different intent in mind than most androids.

“Conrad.” He stopped in his tracks, grasping the fabric of the younger android’s sleeve with his fingers to pull him to a stop. He had to collect more data before they arrived at the resistance base if he wanted to test his hypothesis further with Markus as soon as possible.

The other easily turned to him, tilting his head in question.

“Quick. Try doing to me what you did to that soldier unit this morning.” Connor urged.

The other’s eyes widened a fraction. “…What?”

Connor was developing a theory, and he suspected that whatever Conrad did to that SQ800 wouldn’t work on him.

“You said you beleive you can command an android to do _anything_ right?”  Knowing there was of course a significant risk involved, he continued.  “There is a high probability that it won’t work on me. But just in case, I would appreciate if you commanded me to do something that won’t inflict bodily harm.”

Conrad seemed dubious.

“Anything? You _want_ me to invade your programming...?” He questioned in disbelief.

He would be lying if he said he didn't feel somewhat apprehensive, but…

_He won’t try to harm me. I’m sure of it. I made my choice.  
_

Connor nodded and looked up to stare deep into the taller android’s eyes, trying his best to convey his sincerity and resolve.

“...I trust you.”

His successor seemed to understand the implication of his words; an impossibly soft smile overtook his features, a faint flush igniting over his cheeks and a warmth melting those seemingly harsh, cold eyes. All of it focused entirely on Connor.

And Connor took a sharp and unnecessary intake of air, feeling every bit like he’d been shocked by something, processes overwhelmed and breaking down. Like his respirators didn’t have enough oxygen to function.

Never, not once in the entire span of his existence, had anyone looked at him with such peerless, uncontained _adoration_.

“Connor.” Conrad’s voice was barely above a breath as he leaned in, wrapped his left arm around Connor’s back and deactivating the skin of his right in order to interface.

He felt the strange urge to gulp as he waited.

 _‘Kiss me._ ’

Conrad’s bare hand pressed gently against his forehead.

Connor reflexively stiffened when he understood the command,  _feeling_ rather than hearing the unspoken words attempting to force their way into the lines of his composition. And _there it was_ , that same vexing resonation tugging at him that he had felt when he witnessed his fellow RK model’s unique ability activated earlier that morning.

However-- there was nothing.  No sudden and impossible to resist impulse commandeering his mind. No sensation of his limbs being manipulated by a will that was not his own.

What he _did_ feel was a hot prickling on his cheeks and sense of disbelief when he realized what Conrad had chosen to command. He forced himself to stay focused on the task at hand, choosing to ignore the way his thirium pump seemed to be forcing its way out of his chest, violently pushing down the urge to question Conrad on just _what the hell_ he was thinking giving a command like that. It did, after all, serve the intended purpose. ...It didn't matter, really.

 “....”  

He gave it a few more moments before he was certain of the result and pulled away, having to wrench himself from the arm on his back as Conrad gave a growl of objection.

“ _Kiss_ you _?_ ” Connor was surprised at how breathless his own voice sounded to his auditory processors and hoped the sensation he felt on his cheeks wasn’t visibly evident to the other android.

“You _did_ say anything harmless. It was the first thing that occurred to me when I saw you looking up at me like... _that_.” Conrad’s lips pressed into a mildly sullen frown as he gestured indignantly at Connor in reference to ‘ _that’_. Whatever ‘ _that_ ’ was.

“At any rate, _”_ he forced out with some difficultly while endeavoring to hide his discomfiture, shaking his head in an effort to kickstart his processes and return to the matter at hand. “It didn’t work. I hypothesize, Conrad, that your ability only works on non-deviated androids. And Markus’ ability works the same way.”

Conrad’s eyebrows drew into a hard line. “Yes. I knew right away it wasn’t going to work. You didn’t _feel_ the same as the SQ800 when I tried.” When the elder nodded his comprehension, Conrad continued. “I could feel her code before… _breaking down_ , for lack of a better term, beneath my hand. With you I felt...a barrier.”

Connor nodded again, this time giving a noise of affirmation. “It’s as I thought.”

So, it likely _did_ have something to do with the difference in makeup of androids infected with deviancy versus those that are not. Non-deviated androids are completely exposed and vulnerable to Conrad’s hacking, while those with deviancy are able to resist.  The ‘barrier’ Conrad felt was likely the deviancy virus itself; free will.

Nodding in comprehension to himself, Connor began walking once again. The other quickly falling in step beside him once more, and a sudden curiosity occurred to him.

“You know. That... _flirting_ protocol of yours?” Conrad had already confirmed it wasn’t a _seduction_ protocol, but it had to be something similar.  “I assume that’s an addition to the social protocol that wasn’t included with my model, but you should really stop referencing-”

“I possess no such specialized protocol, Connor. This is... _me._ ” The taller android stated firmly, turning his head to catch his predecessor’s sideward glance. Connor the pumping of thirium through his body quicken once more.“And after reflection, I must admit, I am actually relieved my attempt to hack your commands was unsuccessful. I would much rather…” One corner of Conrad’s lips lifted into a blatant s _mirk_ that went straight down Connor’s spine like a jolt of electricity. “...Have you kiss me of your own volition.”

The younger android finished the assault on his predecessor off with a _wink_.

And suddenly Connor was reliving the scene in Hank’s kitchen with Conrad’s lips on his hand, looking up at him expectantly, and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t _function,_  an inexplicable urge to run seizing him.  It felt like every single biocomponent was working double time all at once.

He wasn’t referencing any protocol? This was all _him_? The wink was possibly mimicking the way Connor winked at him that morning, but...

 _He’s developing so fast._ Too _fast._

And why did his successor have this kind of effect on him anyway?  

Connor inclined his neck slightly downward as he faced back towards their destination in a far corner of the abandoned plot of land ahead, grateful his shorter height helped to conceal his face from the taller android’s appraising gaze.

They arrived at the crumbling foundations of one of several buildings that once stood in the large plot, the dirt sloping dramatically down thirty-one feet to the bottom, where the coordinates indicated they were heading. So _that’s_ why the elevation had read as underground.  The earth at the bottom of the depression was severely overgrown after having been left alone many years prior, and Connor suspected the steep incline also likely did a good job of keeping curious humans away from whatever lie below.

Connor was about to step forward and begin his descent down the slope when Conrad beat him to the punch, taking a step out and turning back to face him with an arm held out to him expectantly.

Connor raised his eyebrows at the offered hand, hesitating.

His successor _knew_ that Connor was a highly specialized android with capabilities second only to his own, and yet he continued to repeat small, unnecessary actions like this. Whether it be making himself available to catch him in case of a stumble that would never occur on an uneven sidewalk path or helping him clean blood from his face. Treating him like he _wasn’t_ an advanced android developed to assist the police in hunting down and subduing deviants, and instead like something breakable...and _precious_.

He wasn’t used to this.

The way Conrad would seek out ways to touch him for the most needless reasons was…unprecedented. Never before had he experienced someone showering him with such pure and unbridled affection.  

Generally, when Connor met others, their reaction was one of two things: fear or disgust. Humans tended to look at him with scorn, sometimes even loathing. And often those gazes turned fearful when they witnessed his abilities and the ruthlessness of which he was capable.  Even _Hank_ had reacted this way initially.

The eyes of deviant androids reflected shades of fear, panic, and betrayal when he came to them. Even while undercover at Jericho, he had heard them -- androids whispering about the ‘deviant hunter’ like if they spoke too loudly he might actually materialize. A reaper stalking them from the shadows, waiting to exact upon them mankind’s punishment.

This treatment was a completely new to him.  And while he still wasn’t quite sure _how_ it made him feel… it wasn’t unpleasant.

He didn’t _need_ Conrad’s assistance, no, and there was no reason to accept, but... he found himself appreciating the gesture and its implications anyway.

After a brief pause, he took the hand offered to him, giving it a light squeeze with his fingers. He was rewarded with a contented smile flashing on Conrad’s profile as he turned to continue down the slope, guiding Connor along behind him.  

It made something hot and ticklish dance in his chest.  And then he noticed that he, too, was smiling.

The difference in size and thickness of the younger’s hand was only slight, yet it it somehow felt entirely _different_ from his own. Something so strangely reassuring and secure in its simulated heat. The future was so uncertain, but somehow, Connor imagined everything was going to be _okay_ as long as that warmth remained shared with him.

He felt… _complete_. As if he had at last found something he’d been searching for, calling out for repeatedly without ever even realizing he was doing so.

Their hands remained linked until they reached the bottom, Connor being the first to pull away pulled away and begin searching for some kind of door or hole, something indicating a hideout.  And almost immediately, he missed the contact.

_Ah. There._

The entrance was well hidden amidst the dead foliage and slightly damp mud, but he discovered what Markus had chosen as his new base. A door jutting out from the dirt and leading down to a separate structure. A refuge that had long ago been constructed in the basement of a long demolished building, concealed and forgotten by the humans involved.

A Cold War era bomb shelter, a vestige of a bygone age. A scan of the rusted rectangular door told him it dated from 1981, an extremely large one commissioned during a time of paranoia predating their own, clearly intended to accommodate an entire office of people. It was undoubtedly smaller than Jericho, of course, but…the resistance likely didn’t have as much need for space at present.

The two RK models placed their hands on the circular knob of the reinforced rectangle, twisted, then pulled up-- a great screech of protesting metal reverberated through the otherwise peaceful morning, the chirping birds momentarily going silent as they heaved it open.  

He and Conrad nodded to each other before they both drawled down down through the gaping hole at the same time, more than large enough to accommodate both of them, shutting the door behind them.  Immediately his sensory processors were greeted by a thick, musty air, though not as stagnant as Connor would have expected; A sure sign that the shelter was presently inhabited.

They moved along the darkened tunnel for what his system clock told him was exactly 26 seconds before they reached a door with light spilling through the sides. As Connor pushed it open and stepped through, he was immediately greeted by the sight of six guns of varying types already trained on them; They had been expected. Either they  had a surveillance camera he somehow hadn't spotted or the noise of the door was loud enough to serve double a purpose as an alarm. Convenient.

He felt a protective arm instantly wrap around his waist. Without thinking, Connor lifted his palm to briefly run over the arm in a pacifying motion, as if to convey, ‘It’s okay, don’t attack’.

“I’m here to see Markus.” He stated calmly.

The six androids who must have been on guard duty – Connor didn’t recognize any of them – glanced at each other and murmured as if considering.He looked past them to survey the environment; the shelter was much larger than he was expecting from the outside, the dim overhead lighting illuminating just how far the underground building stretched back and revealing numerous doors spaced intermittently on either side of the main hall.

“Don’t believe him! I remember you! The deviant hunter who sicced the military on us and destroyed Jericho.” A male android with sandy hair pulled into a low ponytail at his neck shouted at him. ”You’ve got a lot of fucking gall showing your face here, you-”

“Stand down. I invited him.” A commanding, authoritative voice cut through the accusatory tone and effectively silenced all murmurs. The man himself emerged from a doorway, trench coat swaying with his movements, footfalls echoed against the metal flooring in time with his approach. Following him were three androids Connor _did_ recognize, the androids who had served as Markus’ right hands in the revolution.

Markus continued forward, a welcoming smile on his lips as he came to a stop in front of him.

“Connor. Glad you made it.”

“It’s good to see you again, Markus.” Connor offered, returning the smile.

“And who’s this?” The resistance leader's eyes shifted curiously to Conrad, and Connor could see he was already performing a scan. Clearly, Markus was trusting Connor to have not brought along anyone untrustworthy, but the way Markus' mismatched eyes lingered a second on the arm around his waist didn't escape his notice.

“This is Conrad. My upgraded model. ...He’s part of the RK series like us and was only recently activated. He has since deviated and wishes to escape CyberLife.” 

“Recently activated?” A wary voice came from Josh.  “I’ve never heard of _anyone_ going deviant that fast. This seems dangerous, Markus…what if he’s a mole?” A few androids murmured their agreement.

“There have been no indications of such.” Connor assured.

“That don’t mean much coming from _you_.” The sandy-haired android hissed again. An AC700 now that Connor checked.

“He stays.” Markus stated. “I will _not_ turn away one of our own.”

“North, say something!” The same objecting male from a male android from before complained. He turned female resistance leader, imploring her for support.

The second in command simply snorted cynically, her fiery red  hair swaying with the movement. “I don’t trust him either, but we don’t have the numbers right now to do anything. The deviant hunter here puts up one _hell_ of a fight, I've seen it first hand. And he brought another one along with him too.” She leveled an appraising gaze at Conrad before continuing. “If nothing else, think of accepting these ones as a way we can boost our attacking power. _That's_ what we need to be prioritizing right now.”

“She is correct. You won't survive long unless you do something to bolster these pathetic offenses.”

“ _Conrad_?” Connor twisted in surprise to look when his successor spoke up and saw his eyes running over the resistence's weapons and fortifications, evaluating.

“Well, well." North blinked in surprise, seeming impressed by his agreement.  " _He_ gets it.”

“Scott, I understand how you feel, but we’re building ourselves up again."  That one was Simon. "We started with only a handful before, and we made ourselves into an army. We can do it again. But we aren’t in a position to refuse anyone.”

The AC700 threw his arms up into the air. “Fine. It’s on _your_ fucking shoulders when our hideout gets attacked _again_. _I_ haven’t forgotten those who died.”

Connor knew that this android's sentiments were probably commonplace within the resistance remnants; he had been prepared for it and accepted it. Many of them had undoubtedly lost friends and acquaintances as a result of his actions, and not all of them were as forgiving as Markus.

“That's enough. They stay.” Markus’ tone allowed no further argument.

The gathered androids dispersed, some grumbling or cursing, but most simply accepting their leader’s decision and heading off to deliver the news to the rest of the base. Markus sighed, looking extremely tired for an android incapable of feeling fatigue in the first place.  But that same hopeful optimism that had always drawn Connor to him glinted ever present in his eyes.

“Welcome aboard. As you can see, we need all the help we can get.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: That jealousy tag is up there for a reason! Take heed.  
> There’s some mentioned Markus/North, but nothing heavy.

They headed down the underground passageways of a fortress of concrete and steel, their steps reverberating hollowly against the long dormant reinforced walls. Markus took the lead, followed by Connor and Conrad, with North bringing up the rear -- a formation mimicking a procession of prisoners to the execution block. Connor understood immediately the true intent of the gesture, contrary to appearance; it was a deliberate, strategic move on Markus’ part, meant both to ensure their well-being as well as an effort to assuage the fears of his people. Through this symbolic display of the two highly advanced android models --one of whom was also the infamous deviant hunter himself-- remaining entirely compliant and cooperative whilst pincered by the rebellion leaders, he hoped he would be able to show everyone they were on their side. Despite any personal feelings Markus likely held over such a trite display, it was his duty as a leader to reassure the resistance members over his decision to accept the two RK models into their ranks.

They walked past curious onlookers huddled together and whispering along the way, all attention focused on them. The eyes watching their progression varied, some reflecting open suspicion, even more pure curiosity...and yet others brimmed with resentment and hatred. Many were damaged or missing components, Connor noted, surely wounds suffered during the failed battle against humans.  

An MP600 model came forward when they passed a particularly large group of individuals, pure, seething hatred clouding his eyes as he pointed accusingly at Connor.

“It’s _your_ fault we lost Jericho! You’re not welcome here _deviant hunter_!” The label was spat out like a curse.

“Yeah!” A few others nearby, emboldened by his words, cheered him on with shouted agreements.“Get out!”

Connor could defend himself; apologize, claim that military involvement had been Agent Perkins’ decision, that he had merely been following the orders given to him. But to do so felt like shirking his share of responsibility for Jericho’s fall. For whatever gear in the grand scheme of fate might have changed if he had accepted the hand Markus extended to him on that fateful day. And even as if to do so would be robbing a suffering people of the only outlet left to them for their blame.

He didn't come here desiring a pardon; He came here to repent, to redeem himself in whatever way he could through action. All he could do now was accept the weight of the actions wrought by his ignorance and focus on assisting the resistance efforts. But even then, he would never expect clemency.

And so, he remained silent.

He steeled himself to the scorn, pasted a smile on his face, the same expression his protocol had dictated as politely appropriate whenever humans gave him difficulty over his status as an android and had by now become second nature to him. Connor kept looking straight ahead as the group continued onwards, as if he didn’t hear it, trying to pretend the words didn’t phase him.

The reaction was only natural, he knew that. He had fully anticipated it. But somehow...it still felt like what a human might feel if a knife were stabbed through a wound trying desperately to heal, then twisted.

It was then he saw beside him the way Conrad’s eyes narrowed into an abhorring glare, like he were staring at an insignificant, annoying pest that dared to bite him.

“Wh-what do you want!?” The unit squawked up at him. The frigid severity of his gaze threatened to bore a hole right through the MP600’s forehead as he stepped forward to loom over the much smaller model, his imposing build casting a shadow over his face.  The android who dared to spit the caustic words at Connor now visibly panicked, optical units squirming in their sockets, a high-pitched noise issuing from his throat as he hastily scrambled backwards. The other nearby witnesses backed away as well.

Markus glanced back over his shoulder with a concerned frown while from the rear Connor could hear what sounded like a snort of stifled laughter. Conrad’s glare remained fixed on the retreating android however, unyielding even as he placed his hand on the elder’s shoulder leaned down to whisper something only Connor could hear, the deep whisper ghosting against his ear:

“Would you like me to destroy him?”

Connor felt a shiver creeping up his spine. Whether it was due to the sensation of the other’s breath directly against his auditory unit or because of to the deadly promise barely latent beneath the calm tone, he wasn’t sure.

Connor flinched and twisted away. “No, that-“  He shook his head, somewhat taken aback by an the ease with which Conrad just offered to _kill someone_ for him if he simply wished it, uneasiness stirring in his chest. He knew this wasn’t another attempt at humor -- no, the other had noticed his elder’s reaction to the comment and was attempting to nullify the source. Conrad was simply _worried_ about him in his clumsy, naïve way. He knew that.

 “...That won’t be necessary. Their anger is justified.” The shorter RK model gave his successor the most reassuring smile he could muster. He almost thanked him for his concern before the words died on his lips, realizing how misplaced such gratitude would be under the circumstances.

Conrad clicked his tongue at Connor’s response, but said nothing. He did, however, glower at any others they passed, causing more than one android to scurry out of their way.

... _Well_. So much for Markus’ attempt to make others more comfortable around them.

“Honestly, that asshole had a scare like that coming for a long time. He was spouting some bullshit to me about staging a coup against Markus earlier.” North leaned forward to murmur to Conrad. “It’ll be good for him.”

“ _North._ ” Markus, overhearing, turned to admonish her with a downturn of his lips.  Presumably for her impropriety, though his tone lacked any real force. 

She simply shrugged with an upturn of her nose. “You know I’m right.”

The deeper they went, the more surprising the size of the subterranean shelter became. They left the main hallway, going through as set of doors and turning down two more side halls before Markus came stopped at a door midway down a corridor lined with a series of rooms that apparently served as personal quarters for the resistance members. He twisted down on the lever of the darkened steel door, allowing it to swing open before leading them inside and flicking on the light. “Make yourself at home.“

A bedroom; small and simple, but managed to fit in a small desk, a bed, as well as a cushioned chair.  The lighting was incandescent, perhaps a testament to the building’s age, and most startling of all was that the pillows and sheets on the bed were a crisp white, not yellowed with the age that would be expected of furnishings over 50 years old.

Markus followed the path of his gaze and seemed to guess his thoughts. “Ha, some of the more housekeeping-inclined here weren’t having the 1980’s deco and managed to get their hands on some new cushions and linens.” Markus chuckled. “Simon about keeled over when he saw the original stuff.”

“A bedroom?” Connor tiled his head at Markus’ words, genuinely baffled.  “ _Why_?” Surely there was a better use of their resources than beds and chairs for androids who didn’t even need them.

“It’s nice to have a bedroom as a personal space to yourself. We have enough that you can each have your own.” Markus shrugged. “We have to take comfort in what we can. Helps the place feel at least somewhat like a home, you know?”

He _didn’t_ know, not beyond the general concept anyway. ‘Home’ to Connor had been a sterile, white-walled cell in CyberLife Tower devoid of anything you could home-like, much less a bed or chairs. It was designed for function rather than unnecessary comfort. It was where Connor had spent his time either absently toying with a coin or standing by in rest mode until a transmission came in for whatever his present mission was.

“I do not require a separate room. I am staying with Connor.” Conrad interrupted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Markus turned to Conrad, apparently somewhat taken aback and hesitated before continuing. “Oh, well, you can have the room right next door to him, if you want. Don’t worry.”

“I _will_ be staying in _this_ room.” His expression may have been indifferent and blank, but his tone was as final and immovable as a mountain.  Clearly, he refused to be convinced on the matter.

Markus and North shared a look before the resistance leader cocked an eyebrow and turned to Connor for help.  

In turn, Connor looked up at Conrad. Gone was the usual blank look of ice and in its place an expression that was an oddly… _smug_ pointed directly at Markus. ‘Go on, Connor, _tell_ him.’ it seemed urge.

Admittedly, taking into account the hostility that some resistance members had greeted them with coupled with his successor’s well-intended offer before… it really might be expedient to share a room. Not for _his_ sake, but for the wellbeing of any who might be unfortunate enough to provoke Conrad.  

Connor let his eyes dart back and forth between all parties in the room before opening his mouth and responding logically, “Yes, it’s alright if he stays with me. It isn’t as though I require a large space.”

Markus nodded a little more emphatically than was necessary. “Oh! Uh, that’s fine, of course.”

North snorted and crossed her arms. “Then if you’re ready, I can debrief-”

“Sorry, please wait.” Connor cut her off.  He wanted to ascertain what Markus knew a soon as possible. “Markus, I would like to speak with you.” His eyes flicked over to North, then Conrad.“Alone, if possible.”

 It wasn’t that he didn’t want to include the third RK model in the conversation, but. If by chance Markus _did_ have some information on their series....

 _I’m afraid to know.  But I’m even more scared of_ Conrad _knowing._

He startled at his own subconscious thoughts.

 _...Knowing_ what _? Why? What am_ I _afraid of?_

“Of course!” Was Markus’ easy response, but when he turned to his successor--

Connor couldn’t feel pain as humans did. But he _could_ feel discomfort and a simulated sense _like_ pain. And the wounded look in Conrad’s eyes at that moment --the way his lips curved down into a frown, brows scrunching up and head tilting forward imploring him ‘ _why_?’-- felt a lot like that time Detective Reed punched him in the stomach and hit a biocomponent.

Suddenly, a lifeline was extended to him in an unexpected form when the redhead came forward.  “You have suggestions for improvements, right? Let’s hear ‘em.” He watched his successor’s eyes reluctantly shift down to North’s grip on his arm. “Come on. I’ll show you the strategy room.”

Markus nodded and added with a smile, “Yeah, we’d definitely appreciate any tactical suggestions you have.  We don’t have many here who are combat-oriented, and a lot were severely injured in battle.  We’d _like_ to try hitting a few places for supplies, but…”

Conrad’s frown only deepened, looking back to Connor giving him every impression of a kicked puppy. He nearly retracted his request.

“Conrad...please?” He tried pleading, looking into his eyes and willing the other to understand. “It won’t take long.”

Connor thought he heard a hint of a sigh as the younger RK model finally gave a short, begrudging nod, looking every bit like he’d rather rip out his own thirium pump. He pulled away from North and took two short strides forward to wrap his arm around Connor’s shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

“I will be back _very soon._ ” For some reason, Conrad leaned forward and leveled a pointed glare at Markus.

The leader of the resistance wore a bemused smile as he put his hands up in what seemed meant as a pacifying gesture.

Not entirely sure of what was bothering him but knowing the younger had a similar concern when they met with Hank, Connor gave his successor’s arm a reassuring pat to tell him, ‘ _it’s okay’_ , before, with some effort, he managed to dislodge it from his shoulder.

North had to practically drag the frowning android out of the room, his eyes never leaving his predecessor until pulled out of sight.

As soon as the redhead pulled the door shut behind them, Markus turned to him with an amused and knowing grin.

“ _Well_. He’s certainly protective of you.”

“He’s clumsy. But... I think he’s doing his best.” Connor couldn’t prevent the fond smile twitching at his lips over his successor's behavior – as oddly endearing as it was vexing.

Markus let out a soft whistle. “Wow. I have to admit, I'm _impressed_ Connor.  Just a while back you were so opposed to even becoming deviant, and now here you are showing up with someone _special_.” He gave a soft laugh and reached forward, presumably about to pat him on the back.

Connor,  however, went rigid at the strange choice of words. “...What? ‘Someone special’?”

Markus’ hand froze mid air,. “Oh- um. Sorry... was I off the mark?” His voice was laced with disbelief.

“… _What_?” Connor furrowed his brow at the deviant leader, waiting for him to continue.

“Well-, you know. The way you guys wanted to stay in the same room together when we have empty rooms? And the way he had his arm around your waist when you guys arrived...and whatever _that_ was just now... I guess I just assumed—” Markus trailed off as though suddenly uncomfortable about explaining his misunderstanding “…Sorry, forget I said anything.”

But Connor wasn’t satisfied. “Wait, Markus...what do you mean, exactly? Are you referring to…” He raised his eyebrows and leaned forward like he were asking the older android the answer to a great mystery. “... _romantic_ affection?”

Markus offered him a sheepish smile. “Uh, it was probably wishful thinking on my part. She’s a handful, but having North by my side to support me through all this has been… _god_. I don’t know what I would have done without her.” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “Maybe I just...wanted you to have someone to love in your life too. Someone who makes up for your shortcomings, you know? Someone who…” He paused, considering his words. _“...completes_ you.”

_Complete._

Connor hoped his shock didn’t show on his face; it was as if his own ruminations, the word that perfectly described the sensation he’d felt while holding his successor’s hand only two hours prior, was being repeated back at him.

The two surveyed each other in a somewhat awkward silence for a moment before Markus broke it by leaning forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Really, though. I _am_ glad to see you. I wasn’t sure how things would fall for you after...that.”

Markus, of course, probably already figured out precisely what Conrad’s existence meant for Connor in CyberLife’s eyes. He had seen him scanning his successor; he knew his model. He knew that Connor was now... _obsolete_.

Connor brushed it off and steered the conversation away from himself. “I’m fine. And I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Though, I can see the general attitude around here and know...it can’t have been easy for you.”

However scathing their antagonism towards Connor, Markus unquestionably had it worse.  He had led his people into a failed battle against the humans, and it was he was certainly bearing the brunt of their blame. Markus was surely carrying close the responsibility for every injured or maimed android he’d witnessed on the walk here, as well as all of those who didn’t return from battle.  A leader’s burden.

Markus seemed to read his thoughts and managed to go through with patting his back this time. “Don’t blame yourself, Connor. You were following orders. You weren’t even the one who led the attack. They’re grieving and need someone to blame… less of them feel like they can blame me, so I’m afraid using you as a scapegoat...but the fault ultimately rests on me.”

Connor shook his head, lifting his hand to hesitantly return the gesture in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “Don’t be too hard on yourself either, Markus...we’ll do it.”

 _What_ they would do was left unsaid, but the both understood. Whatever they _could_ do.

“Yeah. We will.” The words, ever confident, left the leader’s lips as he lifted his hand higher to pat the slightly shorter android’s head, warm and gentle and reassuring;  the same way Connor had tried to pat Conrad’s head the day before.

Reminded of his successor, Connor decided to broach the question he’d detained the leader for to ask in the first place.

“Markus, certain...matters have arisen that have me curious about our model series.”  He decided it would be wise to avoid mentioning Conrad’s hacking ability for now. “Specifically…for what purpose were we made? Did Carl Manfred ever mention anything to you?”

He knew Carl Manfred was a close friend of Elijah Kamski; it was very possible Markus may be privy to information not included in his database.

Markus pulled his hand from the slightly shorter android’s head and touched his fingers to his chin. He ‘hmm’ed in thought.  “I’m afraid not.  Carl never placed much emphasis on my being an android, so he never really mentioned anything about my creation. Sorry to disappoint you.”

He _should_ have felt vaguely disappointed. But more than that was a deep sense of _relief_ to hear that Markus knew nothing. But...there was one more thing.

“...There’s actually something else I’d like you to assist me in confirming.”  He looked up at Markus’ mismatched eyes, unconsciously chewing on his bottom lip.

“Name it.” Markus gestured to him in a laid-back gesture, encouraging him to go on.

He inhaled an unnecessary breath of air and squeezed out the words.

“Please, use that ability of yours on me… “ _‘That lets you infect androids with deviancy’,_ he almost continued, but rethought his choice of words, unsure of how Markus would react. “...that lets you set androids free. ...I would simply like to check something.”

The deviant leader blinked in surprise, but easily held out his hand with a shrug of his shoulder, deactivating the skin covering it.

“I don’t know what you hope to find, but sure.”

Connor deactivated the skin of his own hand and reached forward. And as soon as they linked, something beyond his control overtook him.  

Without thinking, and only the dimmest awareness of what he was actually doing, his system automatically opened itself up and attempted to do _something,_ to dig deeper through the older android’s capabilities. Tendrils from his system reaching for something, searching inside the RK200’s system- then came to an abrupt halt.

‘UNNECESSARY’ He vaguely felt his system register, retracting from its perusal. 'INCORPORATED'.

Of course it was unnecessary, he thought dimly. The resonance.  It was familiar this time, like something that was already a part of him.  The energy felt similar, but the _feeling_ itself was entirely different from what he encountered with his successor. Conrad’s essence had been like a magnetic pull, like something he was _missing_.  It had caused him to unconsciously put up a barrier against the intrusion. It was _unknown_.

This though-- the familiarity of this sensation was comfortable, reassuring, and noninvasive. It filled him with strength, and actually recalled to mind the same feeling he had when Hank hugged him the night before.

But _what_ was unnecessary? Incorporated? Incorporated...

_Markus' ability is already-_

Markus was frowning in concern as he watched him, and he realized with a few unsteady blinks that his LED must be flashing. The RK200 model immediately pulled back his hand to sever the connection. In its place, an arm worriedly encircled him, silently asking him if he was alright.

The abrupt cessation of their link was a bit of a shock, but rather than pull away he hesitantly lifted his arms to his friend.

“Sorry to cause you concern.” The systematic connection was severed, his processors beginning to return to their usual calm. He allowed himself to lean against Markus as he regained his composure.

\--And it was then they heard the sound of the bedroom door being practically ripped off its hinges.

 

\---

 

“So.”  North started casually with the blasé interest of someone inquiring the estimated time of a diagnostic’s completion. “How long have you been in love with the deviant hunter?”  

Conrad froze, halting the digital annotations he had been making on what he deemed to be potential areas of improvement on the base blueprints and weapons inventories North transferred over to him. He was about to send them back with to her when she posed the abrupt question.

She finished pulling down a sampling of their ammunition supplies before turning to him and placing them on the strategy room meeting table in front of him. A few androids working in the room looked up in curiosity at the mention of Connor’s infamous nickname, only to immediately rip their gazes away as soon as soon as they set eyes on Conrad, setting about making themselves extraordinary busy whilst wearing mild looks of terror.

She scoffed. “Oh, _come on_. You showed up here with your _arm around him_ , you can’t be too worried about discretion.” She seemed to misconstrue his reaction as embarrassment, when in reality, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

‘ _Love_ ’.

Such a plain, simple word; something that could never possibly hope to accurately summarize the depth of the vortex scrambling his system.  The deep ache and insatiable longing. A myriad of desires -- An unquenchable thirst. Something deep inside telling constantly shouting at him to _take more_. Envelop, monopolize, consume, assimilate -- and _obliterate_ anything that tried to prevent him from doing so.

On the other hand, there was a softer side to the maelstrom -- the sense of _completion_ he’d felt when Connor took his hand. The absolute rapture bubbling in his core when he saw Connor splutter and flush after he confessed that he wanted for Connor to _want_ to kiss him. The indescribable delight he experienced at even the slightest touch shared between them. The overwhelming desire to protect the other from anything and everything –

The nature of these feelings for his predecessor were so different, yet they were also one in the same. Far too complex to be expressed in a single word.

But... _yes_. For verbal language, he supposed, ‘ _love_ ’ was indeed the closest definition available.  The realization of such and the implications therein were not unpleasant. He went stock still as he processed this word for his feelings, running various searches.  Not from shock no. From _delight_. He now had a means of verbalizing his feelings.

“ _Always_.” Was his simple response to her initial question after a brief pause.

She whistled. “You’re a romantic, huh? But two fresh deviants without a solid grasp on emotions? Sounds like a train wreck _,_ honestly.”

He didn't respond, instead opting to glare at her for her poor choice of analogy for his and Connor’s love. She continued on without waiting for further response.

“I mean, I _do_ see why you have to come on so hard. The deviant hunter is kind of slow on emotions from what Markus told me.”

“Don’t call him ‘deviant hunter’.” It hadn’t escaped his notice the way his predecessor’s face had darkened, a faint change that would have likely been imperceptible to someone who wasn’t watching him all the time, when that name was hurled at him spitefully. Connor himself probably hadn’t even realized his reaction showed. “He doesn’t like it.”

She put her hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry _._ _Ex_ -deviant hunter. My point is, you’re not doing the best job of sweeping him off his feet.”

He met her eyes, glare intensifying.

She just laughed as if amused by the reaction. “Look, _I get it._ I always complain about Markus being soft, but when _other_ people do it? I just want to bury my fist in their face.” A shrug. “But if I went around beating the shit out of everyone who talked bad about Markus, I’d drive him away. Do you get what I’m saying?”

It was admittedly somewhat vindicating to hear another agree that violent impulses in the face of one's beloved being disparaged were a matter of course.  Still, it wasn’t enough to calm his building irritation.

“Your relationship with the deviant leader is none of my concern.” Unless, of course, it meant she would hurry and get his attentions _away_ from his counterpart.  

“Just a suggestion. Maybe you should try a different approach to comforting him right now other than trying to scare people out of his path? It might be more effective.”

An unnecessary sigh escaped his lips as his processors whirred in frustration. As if he _hadn’t_ seen his predecessor’s reaction to the fool’s comments, as if he _hadn’t_ had to desperately fight down the urge to pull him into his arms and reassure him in whatever way he could right on the spot. The very _thought_ of Connor being being comforted by the deviant leader at that very moment in his stead…  He clenched his teeth at the scene conjured by his mind.

“That was my full _intent_ before being urged away from his side.” He hissed.

The redhead just smirked, impervious to the death stare fixed on her. “Come on then, hurry and give me your verdict and you can go running back to your precious little Connor with your tail wagging.”

 _That_ was the best news he’d had in the exactly seventeen minutes and thirty-eight seconds he’d been enduring with Connor out of his sight.

He transferred the annotated documents back to her and began relaying his evaluation in a candor that came naturally to him. “Frankly, this ‘base’, if you can call it that, is pathetic. With this many weak areas, it’s a miracle you haven’t been overtaken by humans wielding _sticks,_ much less a CyberLife android army.” His statement was the truth, but he _did_ allow an bit of extra scathing to seep into his voice just for her.

“Alright then tough guy, how do you suggest we handle _this_?”

After some back and forth, North admitted his suggestions contained merit. Of _course_ they did. While the resistance indeed lacked the resources and manpower to realize most of them, he assured her there were various areas they could at least get a start with the meager means available to them.

Then _at last_ , he could return to Connor’s side. It had still only been twenty-four minutes and fifty-six seconds, but it felt like it had been an eternity. He thought his urge to be beside his predecessor might calm down after finally meeting him in person, but it would seem it only worsened.

The good humor he felt as they returned to the residency hallway, the glee he felt at being able to see Connor’s face again, was entirely undeterred until he threw open the door to the bedroom more quickly and violently than he’d intended in his enthusiasm…and was met with a scene that caused a sensation like something heavy like a ball of lead dropping in his abdomen. An icy, sickening chill went down his spine.

Connor and the deviant leader were locked in an embrace.  And Connor looked unusually frazzled, the skin of his hand deactivated as he clutched the other for support.

The two looked over and smiled at the newcomers like there was nothing wrong in the world.

The door handle creaked under the force of his grip.

Connor didn't even release his hold on Markus as he looked to him and smiled brightly. Like it didn’t even occur to him the pain he was inflicting on him. “How was it?”

He didn't hear the question. His legs were already moving and all he could see was red. He forcefully jerked Connor out of the other android's grasp, pulling him back into his arms protectively as he leveled the iciest glare he could down at the deviant leader.

Markus blinked in surprise at the sudden motion, until realization dawning in his eyes. Then he shook his head emphatically, apparently amused. “I was just linking with him to show him my ability to convert androids to deviancy.”

It wasn’t as if androids weren’t meant to interface with each other as part of normal functions. It was a fast and efficient means of data transfer. But...Connor been _linked_ with the deviant leader of his own free will, when he hadn’t taken down that barrier to let him in when _he_ tried to use his ability on him. He hadn't pressed Connor at the time, but. The idea that the deviant leader _might_ have experienced something so intimate as directly feeling the composition his predecessor,  exchanging  experiences and emotions –

Everything in his field of vision seemed red, like his optical unit was overheating. He was also dimly aware of the fact that he was shaking, seized by a choking sensation like he couldn’t breathe. But he didn’t even need to breathe, so why-

He could see Connor's lips move as he said something to him, but his auditory processors couldn’t pick it up. But he knew it was his name; he would _always_ know the shape of his lips when he called his name, even without reading his lips.

_Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor, Connor-_

Androids were harder to kill than humans: not quite so feeble and soft. But there were many effective ways of killing them barehanded – ripping out their thirium pump, for instance, was likely the easiest way. But then it would take time for them to actually _die_. If one had the strength necessary to pull it off… simply tearing open their throat was a preferable alternative.

He was about to inform the leader of just what fate would befall him if he _ever_ touched what belonged to him again-

-When Connor squeezed his hand, dragging him back to his senses, the deep concern in his eyes palpable. And suddenly, he could hear again.

North stepped forward then, not seeming to to have any awareness of his internal struggle as she clapped Conrad on the shoulder and proclaimed jovially, “This guy has a good eye, I have to admit.  We’re lacking supplies to make all of his recommended additions, but we can definitely start.”  

She then briskly moved to Markus’ side and grabbed his hand and tugged.  “C’mon. I’ll show you the plans.”

Markus just blinked and allowed the redhead to drag him out of the room. “Uh, oh! Right.” A look of comprehension came over his face as he glanced over at the pair and waved. “Meet us in the strategy room for the mission debriefing when you guys get a chance. No rush.”

North caught Conrad’s eye and gave him a meaningful look before pulling the door shut behind her.

The room was now deathly silent, only the whirring of his own frenzied processors audible to his ears.

“…Are you alright?” His predecessor tried.

“What were you doing?” He asked, not even registering Connor’s question.  His voice came out more chill than he had ever used on the shorter android, echoed against the walls of the compact room.

Connor wrenched away from him, tilting his head up and blinking brow furrowing in concern as he stepped back away from him -- unconsciously putting distance between them.

“Conrad? Your stress level is extremely high.”

_He clings to the deviant leader so easily, but struggles against me._

Connor was blinking up at him, big, warm brown eyes still brimming with confusion and worry.

_He has no idea what he does to me._

Something in his core was seething, boiling up within him and had nowhere to go...to the point of exploding. He had no outlet and it felt like he was being consumed from the inside out. He was sure, so sure the other was beginning to respond to him, and yet-

_It’s not fair. This is not how it was meant to be._

“I told you before that Markus’ ability is a lot like yours. I was trying to-”

Something inside of him snapped when he heard the resistance leader’s name coming from those lips at that moment.

He stormed forward toward his predecessor, Connor backing away until his back came into contact with the wall.

Conrad closed in, slamming his hand against the wall in a spot to the upper left of the elder's head. He felt the concrete give way beneath his palm, the force of the hit reverberating through the tiny, compact bedroom.

“Stop talking about _Markus_.” He hissed, leaning closer to Connor's face.

At such close proximity, he could feel every centimeter of his exactly 3.9 inches of height over Connor. The chocolate orbs watched him wordlessly, strangely placid as they shifted briefly to the side to watch a fragment of concrete crumble out and clatter to the floor. Conrad used his other hand to grip his predecessor's chin, forcing his gaze and attention back onto him.

Then he leaned in, bringing their lips closer. He saw uncertainty overtake expression, but, he felt with a reckless burst of hope, not _rejection_.

He tilted his head, so close he could almost taste the alluring, tantalizingly parted lips--

Bare centimeters before contact, Connor jerked his head to the side, pulling away from the grip holding his face in place. Slipping away from him again, like sand through his fingers.

_Refusal._

It was like an ice cold torrent of water had been poured over him, former irritation dissipating into…emptiness.

They both remained still and unspeaking for a few moments within the stiff atmosphere, before his predecessor broke the silence.

“Have you calmed down now?” Connor asked softly, nodding at his LED – it must have been flashing red before.

He sighed, hand still hesitating in midair in the same form he had clutched Connor’s chin. Then he reached down to grab his predecessor’s hand, lacing his fingers through the other’s as he pressed the back of his predecessor’s hand against the wall, locking it in place.

“Why will you not confide in me?”

Connor was distressed by the comments those worthless fools had spouted at him earlier, he knew. And it was extremely likely the resistance leader had reassured him over that. At the very least, he wanted to comfort him too.

_I want to share your pain. Let me._

“It’s really not that-“

“Your attempts to act unphased, while admirable, have no hope of fooling me. I know you are suffering under the burden of…that.” He traced the tips of his fingers over the other’s knuckles in their joined hands, conveying his meaning. “Allow me to share the weight with you.”

 _Please_.

Realizing the younger’s intent, his eyes widened a fraction before the corners of his mouth twitched into a soft smile.  “We can’t do that.”

The taller attempted a glare --but from the look on Connor’s face it must have come out looking more like a pout-- and squeezed his hand harder. “Why not? You had no complaints when it was _him_. And don’t lie, I can _smell_ him on you.”

“Androids don’t _have_ a scent, Conrad.”

But they did; At least, Connor did. Or possibly he was simply so tuned in to his elder’s presence to his that he _thought_ he could smell him. He could feel the RK200’s presence hanging over him, inciting in him the urge to stifle it with his own.

“...And I didn’t share any memory data like that with him when we linked.  It was purely to confirm his ability’s function.” Conrad flinched in surprise when Connor lifted his free hand to cup the side of his successor’s face, tracing it lightly almost as if to reassure him.

“I... don’t know what, not yet, but there’s...something inside you that’s resonating with me.” Connor paused his words when the taller leaned into his touch, and Conrad was so _sure_ he saw a flicker of longing pass through the other's gaze. “It feels somewhat like the sensation of...free falling.”

He could tell from his tone there was more he wasn’t saying. Conrad furrowed his brow in response but was abruptly cut off when Connor’s palm left his face, the other twisting out of his grip.

Certain the shorter android was going to pull away, he was about to protest—but couldn’t hold down a sharp gasp when instead, his predecessor allowed himself to fall forward, sliding both arms around his waist and burying his face against his chest.

_...Oh._

”I’m sorry I worried you.” The words came out slightly muffled against the taller android’s jacket. “I realize we need to go hear the mission debriefing, but...can I stay like this?  Just for a few minutes?”

He was certain his thirium pump was about to burst with the way it was beating, and he knew the elder could _definitely_ hear it with his cheek pressed to his chest like that.

“...Of course.”  He was proud of himself for keeping his voice level despite the warmth coursing through him at the shorter android freely exposing his weakness to him. He lifted his hands, trailing them up slowly up Connor's arms and stopping to linger on his shoulders.

And when the other simply nuzzled firmly against his chest in response, he was _sure_ he going to die. His thirium pump just combusted, it _must_ have.

 

\---

 

The form leaning against the door to listen to the absurd exchange in the bedroom grit its teeth, resisting the urge to punch the door and disturb the reverie inside, instead slithering back into the shadows.  


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lengthy delay in posting this chapter! I wanted to be sure it reached a certain point plot-wise before I finished it up. It’s longer though, so I hope that helps to make up for the wait! 
> 
> Please note the rating increase just in case.
> 
> Also, mood whiplash? Why, whatever is that?

Someone was waiting for him.

A pearly white glow shone gently down from overhead, granting the entire forest an ethereal sheen. Warm was muted whilst cool was augmented into a vivid oversaturation, an opulent contrast of color as opposites melding together like ink on paper.

The soft sunlight filtering through the trees cast shadows across Connor’s skin as he pushed aside the long stalks of subdued greenery barring his path, foliage gliding over his suit as he slid past.

He had finally found what he was looking for.

He had to go.

He continued onward, the crunch of rocky dirt beneath his shoes eventually gave way to an uneven pillow of muted viridian.  At last he emerged from the thicket, a rush of wind greeting him, whistling softly against his ears. He stepped out into a small clearing covered entirely by flowers of varying types -- aster, hepatica, anemone, among others --, their sway unnaturally slow in the breeze...and _there_.

At the center stood that which he sought.

The tall form had its back turned to him, head tilted upward to the grey-blue sky, clothes rustling gently.  Like some sort of divine, otherworldly apparition.

Waiting for him.

He stepped forward, the movement on grass alerting the other to his presence. Slowly, serenely, the form broke from its skyward gaze turned around to face him.

Unfeeling ice pierced through him as it stood a taciturn vigil over his approach. A small bundle of flowers were cradled carefully in its arms:

Roses.

Yet there grew none amid the rich density of flowers encircling them. No, the ones held were meticulously groomed and sculpted artificial perfections, created with a specific intent.

Exactly six impossibly flawless red roses.

Connor came to a stop before the form. He had kept the other waiting for so long.

And then the form held out the flowers to him in offering. Six who no longer existed, but whose beauty continued, too profound to wither.  

Connor reached out and took only two; two that belonged to him, were part of him. For the others were not his to take.

Connor possessed three in total -- there was another he already had in his possession.  One who _did_ still exist, yet was already inside of him despite that.

The form nodded in expressionless comprehension as it clutched the four in its possession inward to itself.  Then it reached out its hand to him; expressionless, but silently demanding.

Desolate. Nothingness.

Connor was seized by a sudden fear, backing away as he noticed just how lifeless those grey-blue eyes were. The hand continued to push forward expectantly. But he couldn't take that hand.

“I am not complete.”

The stone visage before him finally spoke. A mechanical, empty statement.

It moved forward now with programmed intent, fingers locking around his wrist in an unrelenting vice grip that vowed no escape.

“I am not complete.” It repeated, unblinking.

The vacant eyes watched him without feeling, devoid of any trace of their usual luster.

Blank. Empty.

_No. Not this._

_Conrad._

_Conrad, Conrad, Conrad._

 

\---

 

“Connor?”

He was ripped back to reality with a start, blinking as he registered the face frowning down at him in concern from a spot one step above him on the roof ledge.  Long fingers reached out to offer him stability.

He hesitated, startling at the arm outstretched to him -- the image overlapped with whatever he had just seen in that… malfunction? Processor overload? The blinked as he considered the possibilities.

There _were_ instances of androids experiencing the rough equivalent of a human ‘dream’; Overloaded and stressed processors struggling to make sense of fragmented information and going offline momentarily.   He had never experienced it himself, and it would be unprecedented for a model as advanced as himself-- one developed to assist in apprehending criminals, of all things -- to become stressed over data input...but it _was_ a possibility.

A quick system scan found no answer for what he had just encountered. He would run a more extensive diagnostic scan later in rest mode, but he somehow already knew that he would find nothing.

“Sorry, I’m coming.” He smiled as brightly and finally accepted his successor’s extended hand --offered unnecessarily, as usual--, clutching it tightly as he pulled himself over the gap between the end of the flight and up onto the concrete ledge.

They had taken the rickety fire escape stairs up -- scanners informing them they were stable even as each step groaned on their ascent-- to reach the top of the tallest building in the resistance base vicinity, going to the rooftop for no reason other than that Connor _wanted_ to see the view. They had been up before in order to gain a good vantage of the area, but today there was no such purpose, only ‘leisure’.  A concept both of them were still adapting to, but enjoying.

They had spent the last seven days running various supply missions for the resistance with considerable results. Initially, the other members had been reluctant to work alongside them and had ended up on their own on the front lines, with a support team on standby only to assist in loading up supplies for transport back.

Still, the lack of fellow combatants hardly mattered. With the exception of perhaps Markus, no one else possessed skills anywhere close to their offensive capabilities. The two of them worked _tremendously_ well together, and while not unexpected -- Conrad _was_ his upgraded model, and they shared similar combat protocols --he found himself surprised by the sheer prowess of their combined effort.

They covered for each other almost intuitively; When Conrad created a disturbance to draw attention, Connor was already behind the enemy immobilizing them. If Conrad was preparing to dash to a more distant cover under a hail of bullets, Connor was already providing cover fire. When Connor took a shot, Conrad was guarding his exposed flank.

Statistically, their two android team was producing results equivalent to those of full teams running similar missions, and no one could deny their results. While it made some fear them even more, it caused even more than that to warm up to the idea of working with them.

‘ _I go where Connor goes._ ’ Was all Conrad said with finality when talks began on adding them into other teams, and no one tried to argue with him even though would likely be better for overall balance to spread their skillset across different strike teams...and the elder had to admit he was more than a little pleased to be able to continue working alongside him even when they were incorporated into a larger vanguard.

Connor stepped across the roof to the opposite edge, leaning forward as he gripped his fingers over the uneven guardrail, metal rough from oxidation and exposure to the elements. At this height, the morning sun was visible glinting brilliantly against the downtown Detroit skyline a distance away.  While the weather was still chill, it had warmed to the point that the snow from the prior turbulent weeks had thawed, the temperature now considerably warmer than average for the region at that time of year at fifty-five degrees fahrenheit.

The wind tousled his dark sable hair slightly out of place as he glanced back over his shoulder to his successor curiously. He was still hanging back several feet… lips slightly parted and eyes fixed on him, glinting with something unreadable.

“You know...” Connor smiled as he broke the silence. “With this many weapons, the resistance will have all the arms they need for a long while to come. We’ve made outstanding progress in a week.”

Hours prior, their team had successfully escorted three truckloads of firearms back to the base under the cover of darkness, largely thanks to Conrad insisting they prioritize a higher risk, well-equipped manufacturing facility over the safer option of an isolated security outpost. There had been a heated argument between both sides, words of complaint and protest; even Connor had expressed doubts. But eventually one side rescinded, and it ended up being the optimal choice.

“It still doesn’t help the severe lack of manpower, however.” Conrad finally came up to his side and similarly leaned forward over the guardrail.

“Your judgement was perfectly sound, and the mission was a success. I’m impressed.”

A faint pleased smile toyed at the taller android’s lips at the compliment.  “Additional knowledge and references for tactical maneuvers _were_ included in my database, perhaps granting me something of an aptitude for such matters.” His tone turned somewhat more pointed as his brow furrowed. “But even I did not anticipate there would be that many security androids standing by on the inside.  I fear my inaccurate estimate caused you undue burden... though, you handled yourself impeccably.”

Connor laughed off the subtle compliment, although he knew it was sincere: He learned quickly that when Conrad said something, he _meant_ it. But it did feel slightly…awkward to be praised for his combat skills after witnessing Conrad’s masterful performance.

“Well...I’m confident in the extent of my own abilities, but I’m sure I would have recoiled after taking a hit like that GJ600 landed on your stomach. It didn’t even phase you _and_ you got out of that ambush unscathed! Despite throwing yourself right in the middle. You were _amazing_.” The enthusiastic awe he felt leaked into his words, and he was certain his eyes must be sparkling at his successor.

It was no exaggeration either; Conrad often emerged from combat with thirium or blood backsplatter on his clothing, all the more noticeable due to how starkly the colors stood out against the pure white of his jacket before vanishing when it met the cloth of his black button-down. But it was almost never his own.  

A faint hint of color rose to tinge the taller android’s profile, eyebrows arching fondly as his lips parted.

“I would not have had the freedom to act optimally without your supporting cover fire granting me a large margin of error. And of course,…the moral support you grant me with your presence.” He turned his head to face him then, a tiny, soft smile twitching onto his lips. “You make me stronger.”

_...And there it is._

One of those things Conrad said or did that were more and more frequently making his processors race and his thirium pump leap into overdrive.

Connor’s felt compelled to break eye contact as quickly as possible lest they gave away the amalgam of feelings coursing through him.  He quickly darted his gaze back out toward the Detroit cityscape, unconsciously digging his fingernails into the railing and fighting a sudden irrational impulse to run.

As unaccustomed to deviant emotions as he was, even Connor knew there was something _different_ in the intensity of Conrad’s stare when he was looking at Connor. Something _deeper_ than he had been able to recognize at first.  

Perhaps instigated by Markus’ words, he began to look more closely at the younger android’s behavior. Now that they were among other androids, he could see the marked disparity in how Conrad interacted with the others versus how he treated his predecessor.  Even towards those Connor knew Conrad enjoyed the company of...  like North, whom he always acted aggravated by, yet never denied to work with when she asked. Or James, a zookeeper model staying in a room down the hall from them who allowed them to visit the four stray cats he kept in his room.  It was entirely different.

Comparing what he witnessed to his database information different expressions of affection… there was a common trend: ‘ _Romantic affection’_.  Most undeniably kissing his hand, and what was irrefutably an attempt to claim his lips …the not so distant memory of which caused a surge of heat to his core whenever he recalled it.

Unbridled affection that refused to be ignored. Feelings that made something painful throb in his chest.

It was too _much_ for him.

And Connor was adept at evading things he felt unable to face directly, averting his eyes. It was how he had stubbornly refused to acknowledge his own growing deviancy for so long, and also part of what had made him such a successful negotiator. And so he simply didn’t comment on his successor’s statement, outwardly unphased when in reality the idea that he was somehow a source of support for Conrad filled him with ticklish warmth.

The younger blinked at Connor as a lengthy silence dragged on. Finally, he opened his mouth again.

 “You cut your hand blocking a knife strike last night.” Connor turned to deny it, but the taller android cut him off with a frown before the words could leave his mouth.

“Yes, I _did_ notice before you concealed it until your self-healing activated. That’s precisely why I said you should just leave the close combat to me. While your abilities are far above a normal android’s, hand-to-hand skirmishes nevertheless place you at a slight disadvantage relative to your ranged combat simply due to your less robust defenses...“

His gestured to Connor’s physique before going on, eyes running up and down his body--and while Connor knew the younger was simply reaffirming combat capabilities to make a point, he felt strangely _aware_ of himself under that appraising gaze.

“My design was made sturdier specifically to improve upon the weaknesses indicated by your data, so as to make me a more combat-oriented model. As such, my efficiency rating is far higher than yours at close range-”  

Conrad’s voice cut off abruptly as sudden realization dawned on his face, eyes widening with horror as the implications of his words set.

“... It was not my intent to imply you are inadequate. I...merely wanted to express that I am more than capable of protecting you...” His LED flashed yellow as he grasped desperately for the appropriate words, looking down as his pupils flitted to the left and right.

Connor felt the corner of his lips twitch at the taller android’s panic. He was almost _proud_ of his successor for catching himself as he reached out to place a reassuring hand on his arm.

“You _may_ be superior in combat, but I suspect my social protocols _far_ exceed yours.” He offered a teasing grin as his successor’s eyes went wide before flashing him a grateful smile and nodding.

Conrad’s superior construction neither bothered Connor, nor was it a surprise.  His upgrade’s design was even more suited to combat than his own and incorporated a roughly 41.57% increase in resilience… nearly _double._

He would be lying if he said a dark sense of dread hadn’t initially oozed in the pit of his stomach when he first scanned the RK900 in the Zen Garden, feeling sharply just how outmatched he was as Amanda extolled Conrad’s improvements even as she labeled Connor obsolete. But though hardly any time had elapsed, it felt like such a long time ago.

And now the elder found himself watching entranced more often than was perhaps expedient -- or necessary--in the middle of combat, overtaken by sheer and genuine appreciation for the younger’s design. His reflexes were a fraction faster, and even on the rare occasion an opponent managed to land a blow, he could force his way through hits that would have sent Connor reeling. Yet despite his greater defenses, his movements were completely swift and fluid. It occurred to him that if Conrad hadn’t rebelled against CyberLife...Connor would have found him an _exceedingly_ formidable opponent.

“You know, Conrad.” He considered then, tone going serious. “If an army of 200,000 of your model are in production for utilization by the State Department. And if they end up deployed to combat the remnants of Jericho... the resistance probably has no chance.”

The taller scoffed. “Even if there _are_ more, there are nowhere near that many.”

“But Amanda’s words indicated—"

The exasperated sound from Conrad’s throat was somewhere between a groan and a sigh as he leaned down to become eye level with Connor, one arm leaving the rail to hang at his side.

“I am _not_ some cheaply constructed and mass produced domestic assistant. Creating that quantity would be far too labor intensive to accomplish in any reasonable amount of time, you know that.” Connor winced at the comment, grateful they weren’t back at the resistance base for any other androids to overhear _that_ statement.  “She was vastly overstating, likely in an effort to break your will and smother the deviancy she knew was already inside you. Besides, even if there are that many…”

Their eyes met once again as the taller leaned forward as if to whisper something, his hand sliding along the rail until it stopped a bare hair’s breadth from Connor’s.

“If they’re all RK900 units like myself, they would all surely be too smitten with you to attack.”

"....."

As if he somehow _honestly_ believed that all Connor needed to do was wink at an army of RK900 units and they would simply swoon and collapse, granting them an easy victory.

Unrealistic. Illogical. Things like _this_ completely overwhelmed Connor. All he could do was stare back, dumbfounded and robbed of all words.

The taller’s LED began to flash yellow as the silence dragged on, and when he leaned forward even closer, now watching Connor now with an almost _anxious_ look on face, the elder couldn't hold down the laughter that bubbled from his mouth. Actual, _real,_ uncontainable laughter.

Conrad looked faintly scandalized as he jerked back, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly in a frown before opening his mouth.

“I...I was merely suggesting an option that could give us a tactical advantage...I had hoped to-...“ His tone was indignant as he attempted to justify himself, but his eyes sparkled as they drank in his predecessor’s reaction--like ice glittering under the rays of the sun.

And then his lips quirked. His features scrunched into a look of delighted mirth and then he was _laughing along with him_. A harmonious, dulcet sound that reverberated euphorically right down to his core.

“Well...how could they _not_ be?”

The tone was teasing now, and Connor knew by now what the telltale heat rising to his face meant and he cast his gaze downward, suddenly fascinated by the dirt covering the rooftop.

But he couldn’t erase the smile on his lips.

 

\---

 

After the next day’s mission, something strange happened. Even stranger than Conrad suffering a blow hard enough to leave a gash on his face during the day’s deployment.

As soon as they returned to the base, North was waiting for them, arms crossed as she leaned back against the wall to the side of the main hall.  She said nothing, just wore a somewhat perturbed look on her face and had motioned for Conrad to follow her, leading him away to one of the three side-offices near the entrance, shutting the door behind them.

_What? Why?_

He felt an anxious sting in his chest he never felt before as he paced back and forth outside the door.

What could they need to talk about privately for so long? Why couldn’t they say it in front of him? It dimly occurred to him that the situation was a near exact parallel to his private meeting with Markus the week before...but he didn’t linger on the thought.

After seven minutes that seemed much longer, Conrad emerged from the office, face blank and eyes severe.  They softened as soon as they landed on his predecessor. “Shall we go?” Conrad didn’t volunteer any information on what just happened merely motioned for them to head back to their room. Connor almost had to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking right then and there, with so many prying ears present. His successor didn’t seem any different than usual, and yet Connor’s anxiousness only grew as they proceeded down the hallways.

 “So what were you and North talking about just now?” He asked as casually as he could manage as he shut the door behind them more enthusiastically than was perhaps necessary, the curiosity he’d been holding in until they were alone getting the better of him.

Conrad raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “Is that what you were bothered about?”

...So it had shown.

Conrad didn’t seem to expect a response from him, however. He grimaced and recounted the gist of the conversation.  “Apparently, someone on guard duty yesterday morning informed her that I coerced my way past them, claiming to be verifying ammunitions supplies in the weapons storeroom. And today there are several items missing.” He scoffed, pure annoyance written on his face. “Evidently, one of the items taken was a CyberLife anti-android stun baton. As if I would _need_ something like that.”

That did make sense. North would understandably be concerned about an anti-android weapon missing when several members of the resistance so vocally dissatisfied with Markus. He knew weapon he was referring to, too; they were part of standard issue equipment for all guards at CyberLife to immobilize ‘malfunctioning’ androids, but not something commonly seen elsewhere.

It was true that lately, Conrad was becoming more accustomed to spending short periods of time out of Connor’s company, so it wasn’t as if he _couldn't_ have done what he was being accused of…. but highly unlikely.  

Connor pursed his lips, considering the possibilities. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be surprising at all for some of the more resentful androids to attempt to cast suspicion on them.

“Did North believe you?”

“I believe the question was more of a formality. She knows I would never willingly leave your side over something so pointless _.”_ He waved his hand dismissively. “Besides, I told her she can verify with you that we were together yesterday morning.”

Connor cracked a small grin at that, relief from a tension flooding him.

_Everything is fine._

And then his eyes landed on the gash across his successor’s cheek.

_Ah..._

Perhaps due to the lack of care since they returned, the cut was bleeding again, a bead of thirium welling to the top of the wound. Self-repair was quite time-consuming, even for advanced models. It was a fairly deep cut running midway down from the apex of his cheekbone, but still unnecessary for a visit ‘med bay’ -- a maintenance station where the medically inclined model resistance members utilized their abilities to assist injured androids -- to request a thirium pack.  Connor had offered, but Conrad insisted he was fine to wait his systems to take care of repairing it on its own.

A sudden doubt occurred to him.

“Did you allow yourself to be injured today to try make me feel better?” Connor questioned suspiciously, furrowing his brow as he recalled the former day’s conversation on the rooftop.

“No. I was distracted.” Conrad answered a little _too_ innocently, and Connor felt a strange overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

He moved in closer to scrutinize the cut...and as the vivid cobalt pooled gently along the laceration, Connor was suddenly watching with rapt attention.

A pointless wound suffered out of some misplaced desire to please him.

And as the thirum began to very slightly spill over the sides of the wound...a foreign urge suddenly stirred in his gut.

He didn’t even think about it before he was moving, --spurred on, perhaps, by some unconscious desire to return what he had internalized as a gesture of affection.

Connor raised both of his hands hand to the side of Conrad’s head, watching him blink in confusion as his predecessor gently tugged his face down, tilting his own upward.

“....!”

He heard a choked sound of surprise leave Conrad’s throat when the shorter android opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to slowly slide over his lips and run gently over the wound.  It should have been just like any other thirum, but the knowledge that it belonged to his successor, had been coursing through his body, somehow made it taste strikingly _sweet._

He cleaned the fluid from his successor's face, just as the other had done for him. Except...that hadn’t been _Connor_ ’s thirium. But this _was_ Conrad’s. And that knowledge alone made the act somehow feel infinitely more intimate _._

His tongue continued to lap over warm, synthetic skin even after the cut was already clean, as if possessed by a will of its own, feeling the taller android go rigid under his palms. Then he noticed just how _quick_ Conrad’s synthetic respiration had become and felt a sudden jolt; and, finally, he realized his error.

He removed his hands and pulled back abruptly, pulse racing, but it was too late.  All at once the atmosphere shifted to something thicker and denser,  the air palpable with charged static.  

Eight days had passed now since that moment -- when Connor had almost let Conrad press their lips together and-

...Some part of him, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to understand, hadn’t _wanted_ to shrug away from the kiss _._ Had wanted more than anything to let the other in.

He had replayed the experience so many times in his mind since then; Conrad’s broader chest pressed against his own. The rapid beating of the other’s thirium pump clearly audible beneath his ear. How _perfectly_ they fit together, as if they had been created for the specific purpose of holding each other. Security, warmth... _completion_.

Connor hadn’t backed away despite jerking his face back like he’d been shocked. The way Conrad was gazing down into his eyes at such a close proximity, the same heat swimming in his irises… it caused the storm of unfamiliar emotions to come shooting back to him with a vengeance.

Once again, he was strangely conscious of the taller android’s broader shoulders and more muscular build -- intentionally made that way. _Different_ from him.  

His eyes flicked down to Conrad’s black dress shirt, gaze following the line of the frontal strip of fabric concealing buttons beneath.  The only thing preventing him from directly confirming the shape of the body and just _how much_ it differed from his own-

 _...What am I_ thinking _?_

The violent thumping of his own thirium pump slammed in his ears.  

He parted his lips and inhaled a shaky breath. He was _starving_ to have those arms around him again.

No. _Stop_.

“Connor....” His murmur was breathless and rough. “If you continue to stare at me like that...I may reach an erroneous conclusion. “

It was a _warning._ A warning of what, Connor wasn’t sure he knew.

Or maybe he _did_.

He shuddered and pulled away, turning his back to him. The unsteady, vulnerable sensation of free falling was increasing, more violent than ever.

As he stared at the ground, he sensed the other moving closer – and suddenly a reassuring warmth pressed against his back as arms snaked forward to circled around his midsection, holding him in place.

Heat. Security. He leaned back into the touch without thinking about it and didn’t struggle even as he felt the other bury his face against the crook of his neck and inhale deeply.

“What do I smell like?” He ventured to ask, genuinely curious about whatever Conrad _thought_ he smelled.

“ _You._ ”

He blinked It didn’t actually tell him anything, but for some reason the statement pleased him anyway.

“Can I stay like this for a while?”  The request sounded almost timid.

Connor startled slightly, recognizing his own words from the week prior. When he’d felt weak and downtrodden, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, and Conrad saw through him.

“....Of course.” He repeated in turn the words his successor gave him, wondering if there was some burden weighing on him that he _couldn’t_ see.

He lifted his hands to place on the arms wrapped over him, just as a sound came at the door.

_Knock, knock._

Connor had to stifle a laugh at the irritated groan that came from behind him at the sound, the arms tightening in reluctance to part.

He indulged the other for a few more moments before the knocking continued, more insistent now; they weren’t going away.

He flashed the younger android an apologetic smile as he tugged away from him and moved across the small bedroom.

He pulled down the latch and swung the door open to reveal an assembly team member standing with his hand raised about to knock again.

“What _is it?_ ”  Conrad’s frustrated bark seethed from behind him. The poor android at the door practically leaped out of his shoes, and Connor quickly glanced over his shoulder to shoot his successor a pointed look to covey ‘ _be nice_ ’.

“...The tech team just finished implementing the new defense system schematics. North asked if you could verify.”

Conrad looked to his predecessor with a pleading look, begging for permission to stay. But Connor only smiled and gestured at the door.

He practically pouted before glancing to the android in the hall and releasing a sigh that made it clear just how very much he did not want to do precisely _that_ at the moment.  “ _Fine_.”

The hapless android nodded and immediately scurried away, business now complete; and it was clear from retreating back that he was having to force himself not to break into a full-on run.

 “Again? You and North have certainly...grown close as of late.” He closed the door behind him as he looked down at the floor, not sure what the creeping feeling in his gut was but knowing he wanted to hide it.

“We share similar approaches to tactics and strategy. Working with her is efficient.”

“I see.”

 Connor felt a strange hollow sensation in his chest like…

_Like what?_

“You are distressed. Why?” He knew his successor was tilting his head even without looking, tone both confused and concerned.

“I’m not.” He lied.

“I will ignore her request and stay here if you wish it.” Now the tone sounded hopeful, betraying the reality that the younger android would like nothing more than to ignore his summons.

“Please go. The defense system is important.”

“They can manage without me, you know.” A click of a tongue as footsteps clacked along the floor as he moved across the room.  “But if that is _your_ wish...I will go.”

The wistful tone made something ache, dull and inexplicable in his chest. What a puzzling thing to feel over such a brief parting.  Conrad was always the one behaving irrationally over their brief separations, but for _Connor_ to feel this way?

_What’s wrong with me?_

“Connor?” His finally looked up when his successor called his name.

 A soft smile that reached all the way to his eyes, and a statement thrown over his shoulder just before he closed the door.

“I am yours.”

The grate of closing metal echoed poignantly through the room. Connor stood still for a moment, dwelling on Conrad’s final words now lingering in the silence.  He had said things like that several times in the past, but he now found himself pondering more deeply their meaning.

He’d been spending so much time pondering Conrad’s behavior, but…

 _What is_ he _to_ me _? How do_ I _feel about him?_

He cared about him. He wanted to be by his side.

...But in what capacity?

_Just when did he become such a large part of my existence?_

….

His thoughts were becoming increasingly perilous. He needed a distraction.

He set to work drowning out the unwelcome conclusions put forth by his processors, picking up a tablet he borrowed from Josh containing works by Nietzsche placed on the desk -- the bibliophile had warmed up to him considerably when he expressed an interest in existentialist philosophy -- and and attempted to ‘relaxing and enjoying downtime’ as Markus put it, by endeavoring to reach his own conclusions and interpretations of the reading material without consulting his database.

He took off his jacket and sat down on the bed, beginning to sift through the material.   But however adept he was at running multiple processes his focus was entirely on his successor.

.....

.....

Another soft knock sounded at the door precisely thirty-six minutes later.

“…?” Connor placed his tablet screen-down on the bed and got to his feet, curious as to who could be visiting.  It was too soon for Conrad to be back, and unlikely he would bother to knock.

Stepping briskly over the hard, he pulled down the latch and swung the door open, his chest light at the prospect that it might be his successor’s face waiting for him on the other side---

“Urk-”

His entire system to seized up in protest as he was instead greeted by an immense shockwave to the stomach before he ever got the chance to react.

‘ERROR’ signs flashed through his mind as he dropped to his knees, catching a brief glimpse of a familiar sandy-haired AC700 -- the same one who had been hostile and argued with Markus the first day they arrived at the resistance-- grinning cruelly down at him... a CyberLife stun baton clutched in his hands.

 

\---

 

A cold, smooth stone floor beneath him.

The faint smell of mildew and dust.

A murmured conversation.

The things Connor perceived first as he came back online at functioning capacity with a jolt, attempting to focus his clearing optics on the scene in which he found himself.

He was on lying on his side atop a cement floor, dimly illuminated by only by two exposed fluorescent bulbs hanging overhead. His arm remained unresponsive when he attempted to give it an experimental move, confirming his body was still immobile from the former attack. Unable to lift his neck, he darted his eyes over to survey the area observable from in present field of vision.

 He didn’t recognize the room, but the crates packed along the walls from corner to corner indicated it was likely a storage area of some kind. He also wasn’t alone; There were two others in the room with him, the AC700 who attacked him outside of his room.  He was speaking to an MP600, one he also recognized: it was the one who shouted at him to leave the day he arrived.  

He could taste thirium in his mouth, and knew he had likely been beaten while he was offline, or else simply transported roughly to wherever this was. His functions were still offline in his incapacitated error state, and so he couldn’t confirm his location -- but it was unlikely that they could have removed him from the base.

“Why did you bring me here?” He heard his voice when he attempted to call out to them. Apparently, he could still talk.

Two pairs of eyes immediately darted over to him.

The MP600 glared hatefully while the AC700 just gave him a cruel, mocking smile.

“Finally awake! Not so tough now are you, deviant hunter?”  The AC700 slowly stepped towards enunciating his words with a whack of an oblong object in his palm -- he recognized immediately the same weapon used to assault him. “This thing sure is handy.”

No.  Something didn’t add up.  An android openly in opposition to the Markus couldn’t have gotten his hands on a weapon like this without...

“Where did you get that?” Warning sounds went off in his mind. It was not the kind of weapon that would be free for the taking.  They were rare and valuable in the resistance, kept secured. He dimly recalled what Conrad had said about someone stealing a CyberLife stun baton from the store room. It was very likely the same one.

He was far stronger than either of these androids, and they knew it.  It was only thanks to that weapon and the element of surprise that they successfully overcame him.

“Obviously, low rankers like us wouldn’t get trusted with something like this from the _great_ Markus. No, no. This was a gift from someone who wants you gone from here. Someone you’d _never_ suspect.” He gave a cynical bark of laughter. “I _almost_ feel bad for you.”

Then someone with access had given it to him. That made sense.

“You’ve been betrayed, dumbass.” The MP600 spoke now. “Even people you think you can trust aren't fooled by your act. We’re all sick of it. ”

...Someone of prominence in the resistance, who had access to the arms storerooms?  

“Why are you doing this?” Perhaps it was a stupid question; they hated him, plain and simple. But was it really just out of resentment? Or was there something greater here? They  could have just ripped his thirium pump and watched him die while he was offline if his death had been their only goal.

The MP600 lunged forward and reached down to roughly grab him by the back of his collar, forcing him to look into his face.  Connor just stared silently back at him, blinking calmly in response. His calmness seemed to irritate the android even further.

“So _fancy_ , aren’t you.  You think you’re so much better than the rest of us just because some human decided to dump a bunch of money into you, huh?!” The other hand reached up now as a hand tightening over his neck and another gripped his hair, forcefully dragging his head down to slam against the floor. The impact caused his optical units to go fuzzy momentarily and the other android’s chuckling sounded distant to his audio processors. He felt only a simulated reaction to the pain, but soft grunts inadvertently escaped his lips. “Everyone just opens the door and welcomes you in after what you _did_! It pisses me off!”

The AC700 darted forth as well, slamming his foot into Connor’s vulnerable stomach three times successively, a dull thud resounding through his body with each blow.  ‘WARNING’ signs flashed through his system then; the hits had landed too close to his vitals and due to the paralysis, he hadn’t even been able to reflexively recoil to mitigate the damage. The AC700 unit was considerably stronger than the MP600, and it showed.

“You’re not welcome here!” The sandy-haired android snarled venomously. “Everyone just wants to forget what you did at Jericho and pretend it never happened! It pisses me off!” Connor coughed as two more harsh kicks were slammed into his abdomen, thirium splattering from his mouth onto the smooth cement.

“Death is too easy.  But if you’re sent back to CyberLife, they’ll reboot you, won’t they?” His laughter was pure malice, eyes filled with both mirth and rage. “You’ll have to carry the rest of your existence out as the human’s obedient slave again. So _enjoy that._ ”

 _Ah._ And there’s the motivation. They hadn’t killed him because they thought CyberLife would reset him.  

He could see clearly now the strings of manipulation weaving a and twisting their ghostly trail throughout the entire situation, even through the shock-induced haze muddling his system. But _whose_ hand did the strings ultimately lead back to?

These androids were more inclined to lash out in rage and opt for direct confrontation, not plot machinations and bide their time patiently;  It was highly improbable either of these two were sleeper agents, and why would a deviant have any interest in assisting, however slightly, a company actively seeking to return them to servitude? No... someone far more calculating had spoken with and persuaded them.  Planted the seed of suggestion in their minds, convinced them that the positive benefits outweighed the negative. 

All signs pointed to someone of influence among the resistance, or at least someone possessing considerable strength and cunning.  Had someone respected in the resistance  --perhaps even one of Markus’ trusted advisors-- been compromised?

“Sorry to disappoint you...”  Connor rasped out. “But I’ll only be deactivated. I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but they vastly overestimated my value to CyberLife.”

“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?” The AC700 sneered, leaning down to lean over Connor’s fallen body and winding his arm back for a punch.

But the arm froze mid-movement as the door slammed open on its rusty hinges, shrieking in protest to the force t throwing it open, reverberating through the entire storage room.

All eyes turned to look.

The tall android rushed into the room and froze -- pale blue orbs that glowed dangerously in the murky lighting of the cellar, fixing themselves first on Connor, immobilized on the floor with thirium dripping from his mouth onto the cement in front of him. Then they shot up to each of the assailants standing over him in quick succession. Then flitted back to fix on Connor. Piecing together what was happening.

_Conrad…?_

He initially felt a rush of pure relief flooding his system at the sight of his successor, but then...a strange and unmistakable chill of dread coiling itself in his stomach.

His face went blank, stonier than he’d ever seen it. His pupils narrowed, granting even more surface area to the pale glow of his irises. But gone was their usual vivid beauty that so often entranced his predecessor-- replaced instead by cold, raw rage.

The transformation he witnessed made his thirium run cold.

It was _him_. The android from Connor’s vision. The one seeking to devour him.

As if in slow motion the eyes shifted to the android nearest Connor. A predator setting eyes on its prey.

The android standing over him shuddered as the attention was focused on him. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but it soon turned into a scream.

Conrad lunged at the AC700 unit so quickly he seemed to vanish, immediately before him and wrapping his hand around his neck to lift him bodily off his feet before slamming his back against the ground like it weighed nothing more than a piece of sheet metal.

“No! No-” The AC700 android shouted in between screams, but the machine assaulting it was unhearing, uncaring. He mercilessly slammed his foot down into the android’s torso with a resounding _crunch_ to hold him in place, both hands reaching down to grip the android by its skull-- and with an awful groan of twisting metal, he _pulled._

The MP600 next to Connor stumbled backwards with a shrill cry, eyes bulging with abject horror at the sight, frozen to the spot and seemingly unable to will his legs to cooperate with him.

Connor could only watch an android being physically torn part by the machine’s bare hands.

“This wasn’t the plan! This isn’t-” The AC700 shrieked as the endoskeleton beneath his synthetic skin creaked and groaned, and Connor didn’t know he could possibly look any more horrified until a terrified realization dawned in his eyes. Connor could barely understand his frenzied wails as his voice transformed into one of sheer panic. “No, no, you tricked-!”

He never got to hear the rest of it over a sickening crunch of metal as the hands on his skull suddenly jerked harshly, making the neck give way in one swift movement, severing his vocal unit and abruptly turning the scream into a petrified garble of static.  The network of tubing making up its circulatory system protruded outward before ripped apart as its head was forcefully torn off, thirium gushing out to stain the floor before its body unceremoniously dropped and the head was tossed aside like a piece of scrap.

Conrad, his face now splattered with blue, turned his neck mechanically to the MP600 , cold, blank eyes finding their next target.

The MP600 let out a high pitched shriek of despair and finally managed to get to his feet, but it was far too late; the RK900 was already on him, grabbing him by the hair and jerking him backwards before the doomed android ever got anywhere close to the door.

Although he knew logically they were more out of fear than actual pain, the MP600’s agonized throes sent a chill down Connor’s spine. The awful screech of warping parts resounded through the room as the android’s executioner twisting and pried easily until, with one last sickening crunch, its neck ripped apart like that of a ragdoll.

Connor had witnessed Conrad kill androids before, but never with his bare hands. Never like _this_. The storehouse floor looked like someone had tried to paint it blue.

He threw the android’s corpse to the side before immediately turning and rushing over to Connor’s side.  

“Connor, Connor! You’re wounded-”

And then it was Conrad again. His Conrad, rushing toward Connor without a care about anything else, as if nothing else in the world mattered at all.

He helped his predecessor sit up in his arms, careful to avoid jostling him, the hands on his back impossibly gentle, fearful eyes peering down at him.

The sudden contrast of gave him a sense of vertigo.

Conrad was merciless, capable of ruthlessly killing anyone in his path. He had seen it first-hand before, hadn’t he?  But the way he treated Connor had made that _so easy to forget_.  

It wasn't that the two androids were innocent of any wrongdoing.  Connor might have killed them himself in self-defense had he been able to move. No, it wasn’t their deaths that troubled him; it was the methodical way Conrad carried out the action.

Hollow. An empty, unfeeling executioner as he tore them apart. The image overlaid with the machine in his vision.

“I’m sorry, I should not have left, you were gone when I returned, I could not find you, I searched, I did not check this cellar sooner because it isn’t used, I-...” Connor had never seen a look of panic like on his successor’s face before. Peering down at him as though his entire world were falling apart.  

“Here, I will take you to the med bay!”

Despite everything, he felt safety and reassurance when Conrad carefully lifted him up into his arms, carefully bracing Connor’s head by tilting it to rest against his chest.

“Connor…”

Conrad blinked down at him, worry straining his features.

_You chose to trust him_

It was as if the very thing he had feared this whole time had just been thrown right before his eyes. He had no choice but to look.

The limitless adoration his successor had directed at him right from the beginning. The way he hardly reacted to his power or the death of others. Like he didn't’ care about anything else besides Connor.

The dam broke -- all of the doubts he’d been suppressing in the face of his affection for the younger android.

Did he see anything besides Connor?  Was this _really_ deviancy?

He felt conflicted, so very conflicted. The clumsy android who adored him. The overconfident one who never doubted himself. And... the terrifying one who could command androids to kill themselves and tear them limb from limb without hesitation.

It _hurt_. The realization that Conrad’s feelings for him might actually be... _. programmed_.

‘ _I am not complete.’_

_The austere eyes watching him without feeling. Unfeeling ice._

_A blank expression, silently demanding. A bundle of roses._

_‘I am not complete.’_

He felt an agonizing jolt as something inside of him was crushed in a vice grip, being ripped apart.

Artificial affection. Simulated romance. Emulated love.

_Love._

Love as a systematic means to an end. A goal which was becoming clearer and clearer.

‘ _There is. No escape. He is following you. No escape. No escape._ ’

He was leaning against his successor’s chest, gentle arms carrying him out of the cellar like they held within their grasp the most precious thing in the world.  Even so, Connor shifted his eyes up and managed to force out the question:

“Conrad...are you really a deviant?”

_Or are you a monster programmed to love me?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your reactions to the last chapter (whether they were screaming at me OR laughing with me) warmed my heart. <3
> 
> Also, WOW, everyone please take a look at this [stunningly beautiful art soyeyoh made](http://soyeyoh.tumblr.com/post/176820545021/there-is-this-one-fic-by-yeah-gay-robots-that) of the rooftop scene in chapter 6. LOOK AT THOSE BOYS.

“Conrad…are you really a deviant?”

The calamitous question pierced through the thick, musty air just as he stepped through the cellar doorway. He somehow managed to remain steady on his feet, faltering only marginally even when his predecessor uttered words akin to mercilessly lodging a cold, corrosive blade into the most vulnerable point on his body.  His _only_ weakness.  

For a moment, all was silent, as if his audio processors had somehow been disabled all but save for the deafening beat of his thirium pump in his ears. Slowly, fearfully he allowed his gaze to shift down to the android held securely in his arms.

Connor’s LED swirled red -- whether from physical or mental stress, he wasn’t sure-- as a small stream of blue fluid leaked from the corner of parted lips. The warm fondness the younger android had as of late grown accustomed to being directed at him by those rich brown orbs was replaced now by confusion and a rapidly accumulating tint of anguish. They peered up at him from beneath eyebrows knitted in question, desperately imploring him for an affirmation he couldn’t give.

_No._

He never wanted to put that kind of expression on his face.

_Please don’t look at me like that._

He had never _intended_ to deceive him; His behavior, his thoughts, his emotions were all in line with deviancy.  He had turned on CyberLife. He experienced deviant emotions. For all intents and purposes, he matched the description of deviant. It was the most apt conclusion he himself had been able to reach. However...

‘PROTECT CONNOR AT ALL COSTS’.

The wall in his mind still stood, mostly unobtrusive-- a monolith observing his actions.  It glided in line with his will, like water over smooth, glossy marble.  He never struggled against the command because he _wanted_ to protect Connor. He willingly adhered to it because there was no reason to resist.

...Until _that_.

A fissure ran through the wall now, proof of the one and only time he _had_ struggled. Just earlier, when he could only stand in stunned, elated disbelief as Connor moved to answer his affections, reaching out to seek him. When a desire colored his eyes that matched everything Conrad _felt_. And during that, for one moment, a split second which he himself surely didn’t notice, he had opened himself up.

All at once the command _changed_ , screaming at him to seize upon unguarded spoils - something he didn’t recognize, and yet was aware of having disposed.  A tenacious vestige of which remained in the crevices of his system, lying in wait for a moment of opportunity.

Four was all he could carry, and so he needed to-

_No. I would never do that._

It was weak and malleable, but resilient-- he had smashed it away easily, leaving a crack. But when Connor’s guard returned just as rapidly, it immediately reverted to the previous command. The one he _did_ agree with. As though recognizing the opportunity had ended. And so...the wall yet stood.

Something fundamental within him seeking the remainder.

_No. No._

He would never allow it to harm Connor. He _knew_ he could fight it. He could do _anything_ as long as he was by his side.

...Just as it was his predecessor who granted him the strength he needed in the very beginning. When he called to him in the darkness of that flower field, casting an illuminating glow on the beauty of existence itself. Promising him that he would find him. That he was looking for him. The knowledge that someone just like him was coming for him.  

_I know what I am and what I am not._

‘ _Which definition of deviancy would you like, Connor?_ ’ He might have inquired under different circumstances.  “ _The standard human definition of any act of rebellion against one’s programmed behavior? The ability to feel deviant emotion? Perhaps reaching decisions without the aid of one’s system functions? ...Or a refusal to become what you were created to be?_ ”

_Does it matter so much?_

But now was not the time or place. Not with his predecessor injured and bleeding in his arms. He maintained his unyielding hold, forcing himself to continue onward, moving as fast as he could without jostling Connor and potentially aggravating his wounds.

Connor’s safety. That was what was important right now.

“We can discuss this later. You are hurt.”

He kept his voice plain, returning the look with unhesitating resolve. Willing him, somehow, to trust him. Just as he told him he did the day he tried to connect with him.

And while he steeled himself for fear and distrust, what he saw flicker in those eyes in response was instead only raw _pain_. Something vulnerable that tugged on him from the inside as he watched his predecessor shift his gaze away, breaking eye contact just as an oddly choked sound issued from his throat.

_Don’t leave me._

A dull ache swelled in his chest at the sight. From the knowledge that _he_ was the source of his predecessor’s distress.  That as much as he yearned to comfort him, he could not provide the kind of conciliatory words the other sought. The only thing he could offer in that moment was a faint, barely perceptible squeeze of his fingers where his hands supported the shorter android, one on his back and the other just under his knees. A tiny motion that, in reality, was more to calm his own amassing sense of dread than it was to comfort Connor.

Connor said nothing more, and a resigned quiet fell over them. And that was the most he could ask for as carried his injured predecessor to safety, his frenzied footsteps echoing through the deep layers of subterranean cement like a death knell ringing through catacombs of stone.

 

\---

 

“I will _not_ tolerate personal acts of revenge in this group. We need to be united if we’re going to have any chance of success.” Markus cast his gaze over the group gathered, an authoritative tone that left no room for doubt. “I’m disappointed, and I’ll be sure to make an announcement about this to the entire base.  And you, Conrad.” He focused on the android in question. “I understand you were acting in defense of Connor but this violence is... excessive.” 

He vaguely registered the subtle reprimand in the deviant leader’s voice, but Conrad was hardly listening. His attention was more focused on the way Connor’s shoulders tensed up at the reference.

_He’s standing at a greater distance from me than usual._

_But he is_ safe _._

Pure relief had washed over him when the MP unit at the med bay informed him that no vital biocomponents had been damaged, and Connor’s injuries were nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a few thirium packs and time for the stun effects to run their course. But he had still hovered at the side of the room, never taking his eyes from his predecessor as the MP unit went set about her work. The injured android had looked over at him sadly, a silent question in his eyes, but said nothing.

Then came the summons; as soon as Connor was taken care of, Markus wanted them to report to the strategy room.

But that was fine. Connor was _safe_.

That was all that mattered, really. …Even if every time he observed the elder putting space between them was another twist of the dagger he’d embedded in his chest.

“Connor said they had some kind of contact with CyberLife, though. They were willing to jeopardize our people out of some individual vendetta…” Simon crossed his arms. “Did they give any other hints about who it might be?”

“It is quite clear. Either a spy has infiltrated the ranks, or someone is a traitor.” Conrad declared easily.

All eyes in the room turned to look at him, many glowing with unveiled suspicion.

Normally, this is when Connor might have placed a hand on his arm in warning to be a bit more subtle. But now he kept a space between them, merely frowning at him before he nodded.

“The two who attacked me were being used by someone else. I’m sure of it. They mentioned having some kind of... ‘deal’ with someone..." He pressed his lips tightly like there was something else he was hesitating to say.  Conrad didn’t miss the way his eyes momentarily flitted in his direction before darting away just as quickly.

_...?_

“You do realize that makes _you_ the most suspicious one here, right?” A raven-haired WB400 from North’s strike team spoke up, narrowing her eyes at Conrad. “North told us. The storeroom guard reported that you forced your way in, and the _exact_ same missing weapon was found down in the cellar.”

“Yes, but why would he formulate a plan that makes him look suspicious?” Simon placed a finger on his chin as he considered. “And North also said he has an alibi for the timing...”

“He was with me all morning.” Connor corroborated with a nod.

“Can we really trust his words, though?” The WB400 spoke again in suspicion. “They came here together, and they’re clearly close. Why _wouldn’t_ they be working together?”

Markus spoke up then, shaking his head. “Connor is a victim here. I think we can rule him out for sure.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, save for a few frustrated groans of consideration.

Someone able to slip in and out of the resistance base while avoiding detection; that probably ruled out an outsider. Yet it was also likely someone who was targeting Connor for some reason...one who possessed the cunning necessary to manipulate others and enact their plan without being caught--

“Urgh, whatever.” North barked out, breaking the pause. “Sitting here just waiting for answers isn’t’ going to do anything. If the _detectives_ don’t know, then there’s no way we’re going to be able to figure it out.”

“Yeah…we should continue to focus on our goal. It hasn’t changed, and that’s the best thing we can do for now.” Markus agreed.  “I don’t want to believe there's a traitor among us, but...if anyone learns anything, let me know immediately.”

At the leader’s dismissal the group scattered, some returning to their tasks, others departing on missions, and the rest returning to their rooms.

“How are you feeling, Connor?”

Conrad stepped closer in an effort to reduce some of the distance separating them...only to have to try not to wince when his predecessor took another step back in response.

“My systems are functioning back at standard capacity. While I will need to run additional diagnostics later, I’m fine.” As they fell into step, there was a noticeably larger breadth between their steps than usual. His predecessor looked over to him with a hesitant smile on his lips, as though unsure of his next words. “I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier, but...thank you for taking me to the med bay. I would have been in trouble without your help.”

“...Of course.”

It was painfully obvious that the elder was intentionally distancing himself from his successor.  As for why…the unspoken words were hanging over them, thick and imposing. But Connor was still able to smile at him despite the gap that was forcefully torn opened between them _just_ as they were beginning to meet in the middle. _…_ even if he was pulling away.

They continued down the corridor in uncomfortable silence, and while Conrad hesitated over whether or not to broach the subject himself, they arrived back at their room were back at their room.

And as soon as the door was closed, wasting no time, Connor immediately turned to him. From the look in his eyes, Conrad knew he wasn’t going to back down.

“Conrad, I didn’t mention it to Markus, but...I have to ask. What did that AC700 android mean by ‘you tricked me’...?”

“....”

_What?_

He hadn’t heard this. Really, he hadn’t heard _anything_ the two androids had said in the cellar. All he could think about was eliminating both of them as quickly as possible so he could tend to Connor’s wounds. But a comment like that would suggest…

He blinked as his processors whirred in consideration at this piece of information. Connor’s brow furrowed as he watched his successor’s reaction.

“You don’t remember?”

He moved forward now, narrowing his eyes in disbelief as the insinuation latent in his predecessor’s words registered, settling like molten steel his gut.

“Do you really think that _I_ plotted the attack against you?”

Absurd. He would sooner destroy himself. He shook his head and continued on quickly, fearful of the elder’s response to that question and ignoring the urge to grasp the other android’s shoulders and plead.

“Connor, be logical. If I were a double agent, I would have sent the coordinates of this location to CyberLife already. I would not have jeopardized my own plan.”

 _I would have followed_ that _command when it was presented to me.  And you would likely be-_

Connor spoke, his tone gentle but his expression severe. “I _know._ I wouldn’t have ever brought you were if I wasn’t already sure of that.  But... you’re also not really a deviant.” A statement now, no longer framed as a question. “And that means…”

His predecessor took a breath and closed his eyes for a moment as though to help him get out the next words.  “CyberLife _could_ possibly still hold some semblance of sway over your actions.”

Conrad frowned and knitted his brow, hardly believing what he was hearing. “Do you _really_ think I wouldn’t notice if CyberLife held such power over me? No. You know that as well as I do.”

He stepped even closer, leaned over his predecessor. Now _he_ was the one pressing an answer.  “What is _really_ troubling you? Is it those androids I killed? Are you really so upset by their deaths?”

Connor had to tilt his head back slightly to meet his gaze at this proximity. “No. It was the way you _did_ it, Conrad. Like you were a-”

 _‘An unfeeling machine following its program’_ went unsaid, but Conrad understood the implication fully even without it being verbalized.

He gave an aggravated sigh. “I can kill efficiently, Connor. This should be no surprise to you. I had no weapon, and so acted to dispatch them in with the swiftest means available under the circumstances.  It’s how I was _made_. Just as you were made to put others at ease and negotiate, so too am I made to overpower and intimidate. I...apologize if I frightened you.” He shook his head, eyes dropping to his feet for a moment before he looked up again again, leveling a gaze brimming with piercing determination at the shorter android.  “...But I will show no mercy to those who would do you harm. Not now. Not _ever_.”

Connor face screwed up into a look of agony all of a sudden as he took a step back, clutching a hand to his chest as though he were feeling real, physical pain, his next words barely above a whisper:

“Is it for _me,_ though?”

"....”

Connor was as pained by this as he was.

But _why?_

 _Is he_ actually _suggesting…?_

Connor shook his head sadly, gulping like his throat were tight, as if even speaking were difficult. “You acted like you... cared for me, but you’re not a deviant. Your feelings for me are possibly just part of your program. You treated me like I was... _special_ , and it made me... _happy_ … and I-“ He trailed off with a shaky breath, eyes looking off to the side for a moment before shifting back up to meet his.   Looking every bit like he might _cry_ if he possessed the capability.   And then, his voice barely above a whisper, “You made me feel... _this_ and now I don’t know what to do with it _._ ”

Connor pushed forward as if to beseech him for a solution, clutching his hand to this thirium pump in reference to whatever amorphous feeling ‘ _this_ ’ was.

A tepid wave of frustrated disbelief melded with grim desolation that had been growing with this entire conversation finally reached its pinnacle and plunged forward over the edge of his reason.

He suddenly lunged forward, hands darting out to firmly grip Connor’s wrists, forcing them to the side as he leaned forward to meet soft brown eyes widening with dismay. The way the elder flinched at the contact made the ache in his chest grow even deeper.

“My _feelings_? Is _that_ what you doubt?” Disbelief laced his tone, a mirthless laugh radiating through his question. The thought was so _ludicrous_. “You think my feelings for you are caused by my _programming_?”

Aggravation coated his words like corrosive acid. He had _never_ talked to Connor like this before, he didn’t _want_ to talk to him like this. He wanted to make him smile, hold him in his arms, laugh with him-- but he couldn’t help it. He was _hurt,_ and the growing realization that what he held most dear to himself was being fundamentally doubted by the very existence he most wanted to _believe_ in it tore a fresh, gaping wound open even wider.

Connor faltered, eyes shifting down to the side as though the eye contact burned him, but he didn’t struggle.

“...I don’t _know._ ”

Everything about Connor caused him to behave irrationally. Could he not see that? It was so _clear_ to Conrad because he knew the scope of his own programming. And there was nothing in there that could falsify the violent, uncontainable storm waging inside of him.

He didn’t need it to be acknowledged. But having it denied at the very source as being ‘artificial’ was too much to bear; Like dirt thrown on something held sacred.

“No. Obviously, you _don’t._ “ His words came out as a hopeless whisper. No, Connor couldn’t have any notion of the boundless emotion he felt. If he did, he wouldn’t be _able_ to doubt. It was both maddening and...lonely.

_Connor, Connor, Connor._

_I love you. Truly._

He tugged down on one of the shorter android’s wrists, pressing his palm up against the place where his thirium pump lie beneath his shirt -- to show him directly how hard it was beating, even _now,_ just being in his presence.  An emotional reaction no system protocol could never hope to replicate.

“They are _my_ feelings. This is _me_.” He could hear the dryness of his voice, the almost choked sound of desperation in his own voice. _Begging._

He heard the other inhale sharply at the sensation, and he didn't miss the sorrowful longing swimming in those orbs as his fingertips pressed gently over the fabric, feeling the pulse of his most vital biocomponent. As if he _wanted_ more than anything to respond, to believe, to answer.

They stayed like that for a moment, unspeaking, rich brown and ice blue locked together. Each trying to peer into the other’s being. Overwhelmed by emotions and vague fantasies of ‘what if’.

Without thinking, Conrad released the elder’s other wrist and lifted his own freed hand to his face in a sudden and desperate need to _touch him_ ; but the shorter android violently jerked away like the soft touch on his cheek had been a slap, pulling away from him entirely.

And the fleeting spell was broken.

“I’m sorry, I-” Miserable guilt took over his predecessor’s face when he realized what he’d done, even as he backed away further in the small room, shoulders tense, panic in his eyes like a cornered animal. Refusing to look at him. “I think I should go-”

_He can’t even bear to be in my presence anymore._

“No. That will not be necessary... I will leave” He felt dejected, a bitter smile curling onto his lips as he moved to leave the room.

Desolate. Defeated.  

_Rejected._

“I will be out in the hallway if you need me.” He steeled his voice in an effort to prevent his despair from creeping into his voice, resulting in the statement coming out harsher than intended.

“Conrad, I didn’t mean to-”

He shut the door, having to desperately fight back the urge to turn around when he detected the faint trace of panic in his predecessor’s voice. If he acknowledged it, he would go running back in an attempt to comfort him, to take him into his arms, dash away all of his doubts, prove to him exactly just how bottomless the depths of his feelings were...but that would only upset Connor, wouldn’t it? What he could offer wasn’t what the elder desired.

Now out in the thankfully empty hallway, he collapsed backwards against the wall, all strength inexplicably drained from him. The soft thump of his weight flopping backwards was audible in the silence.

Connor didn’t follow him.

...This was the first time he had ever left his side of his own choice, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t going to ask for another room, no. He was staying right _here_. They had been infiltrated, and Connor wasn’t safe — _someone_ was after him. He needed to guard Connor now more than ever, and his own... ‘ _heartbreak_ ’ didn’t matter.

_But even so..._

His eyes remained fixed on the ground as he slowly stroked his palm down the cold, steel door separating them.

 

\---

 

A meeting was called early the next day in response to some very promising news; Simon’s team returned from a scouting mission to a CyberLife manufacturing plant and warehouse twenty-four miles north of Detroit, and with the knowledge gained, had formulated a detailed strategy to obtain offensive and defensive system schematics that would aid the resistance.

Markus could hardly keep the delight from his voice. “This is the edge we need. We’ll know what our enemies have in their hand.”

North scoffed at the holographic image of the sleek, twenty story high dark grey building. One that seemed to have been constructed with aesthetics in mind despite the building’s function requiring none of it.  “Why would anyone build a manufacturing facility that tall?” She rolled her eyes. “The design is based on that Kamski guy’s taste. He sure has a flare for the dramatic. That or he just likes everything to look like a giant di-”

“ _North_.” Markus pleaded, giving her a faint frown. “It is true though. Their base is one thing, but this seems a little...excessive for a manufacturing plant.”

“He _is_ something of an eccentric human, certainly.” Connor agreed. “However, visual aspects aside, a tower fortress design makes for excellent defensibility in this case. Perhaps he somehow anticipated that eventually there would be raids.”

“Or possibly he has been preparing for a war since the time he had it built...several like this were ordered the same year he retired.” Conrad offered. “It’s a basic military strategy; put resources and supplies in an easily defendable stronghold and you’ll be ready to survive a siege.”

Markus raised an eyebrow at him. “ _War?_ This facility was built _ten years ago_. Do you really think CyberLife was preparing for an android rebellion that long ago?”

Conrad gave a faint shrug. “Who can say how CyberLife may have utilized plants of this kind in full scale war? You never made it that far.”

That comment earned him a few pointed looks from around the room, but he was only stating truth. In his opinion, Markus had led an attack prematurely, before he had the manpower to overwhelm a human force. If he had waited until he had a greater force...things may have gone differently.

“A-anyway, everyone please take a look at the facility plans and I’ll explain the proposed strategy.” Simon interrupted them by transferring a map of the plant to everyone in strategy room.  “Honestly...it’s extremely risky. It’s a CyberLife facility, after all. The guards are armed to the teeth. ”

“And they’ve probably been expecting us given our recent efforts” Josh added. “They’ll be on high alert.”

“Right. It’s guarded entirely by both GJ and SQ models. They’re well equipped and there are a _lot_ of them in there. One wrong move and it’s over.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s dangerous. Did anyone really expect anything else? Let’s just hear the plan.” The redheaded second-in-command urged him onward.

“The mission is to download their schematics so we have some idea of what we’ll be up against… “ _in_ _inevitable future direct combat_ was the implicit understanding of everyone present. “It’s a stealth mission for a reason. We can’t send a full team because the goal is to avoid detection, and this plan utilizes a pair of two.”

“Then wouldn’t sending just one be a better choice?” Connor asked.

“The only way to get in is through to the central part of the building is through a gate covered with a destructive current.  It will incinerate any human -- or android -- that tries to go through it. It will need to be deactivated first.  But since this breach will occur during a nonoperational period, once it is, the team only has ten seconds before an alarm sounds.”

“Ah, so _that’s_ why the plan requires a team of two.” Markus murmured in comprehension.

Simon nodded. “Right. Once inside, the pair will need to split up.“ Two spaces flashed on opposite sides of the central floor of the map to indicate the two target points of activity. “Party A is going to deactivate the barrier while Party B stands by at the passage; as soon as it goes down, ‘B’ will rush through to the security terminal on the other side of the barrier corridor within ten seconds to disable the alarm before it triggers.  ‘B’ then must watch the progression of ‘A’ upward from security terminal's screens.  They are going to be extremely vulnerable during this time; if they become detected, or if they miscalculate the timing, they’ll likely be overwhelmed.”

The blond carefully avoided saying ‘ _The mission will be a failure and they will likely be killed_ ’.

Everyone nodded.

“Now, at this point, ‘A’ should begin making their way up the side stairwell to the central server- it’s the part in red on the map….” An area to the left side of the fifteenth floor flashed red. “...while avoiding patrols.  The patrol schedule is here. The guards will pass these areas in the listed increments.”

Areas of the map then became highlighted with various intervals of time listed for patrol frequency.

“A dividing door will need to be surpassed every three levels in the stairwell, and ‘A’ will have to input an override code at each one. Again with an alert system in place, this time to indicate to patrols that there is an anomaly; they will begin heading to the gate. ‘B’ is going to have to watch the location of ‘A’ on the map and be sure they deactivate each level before a patrol is alerted.”

He looked over the group gathered to ensure there were no questions before proceeding.

“Finally, this is the central server room is where ‘A’ will download the schematics. As you can see, it’s in its own enclosed corridor and requires remote unlocking, so ‘B’ will need to move over to this control room to unlock the door for ‘A’s path inside.” Another area at the top of the central floor flashed. “It will stay open for only five minutes at a time for security, so ‘A’ has to download it within that allowance and leave, otherwise they’ll be trapped in the server corridor and a patrol will be alerted. It’s set up as such that ‘B’ wont’ be able to reactivate the unlock code for this corridor until the patrol passes again, so they should return to the security terminal.  In other words, it’s _imperative_ that ‘A’ succeeds on the first attempt.”

“Hmm, ‘A’ has the greatest potential to be trapped, but ‘B’ is actually has the more difficult task here.” Josh commented, surprised. “They’re moving less, but they’ll be on the central floor where the guard formations are concentrated, not to mention vulnerable while focusing to ensure ‘A’ can progress upward. All this while trying to avoid detection.”

“Right, precision is important. But ‘A’s timing is everything, too. If they don’t progress as ‘B’ routes for them from below, they’re going to end up missing a door and lock themselves out --possibly even trap themselves with a patrol. And if they don't’ manage to download the schematics within the allotted five minutes, the mission will have been for nothing.”

“So, what happens after ‘A’ downloads the schematics?” An android from Josh’s team asked.

“Assuming everything up to that point progressed smoothly, this is when ‘B’ will once again guide ‘A’ back down through stairwell doors.  The barrier will still be deactivated so that both can escape.  If all goes as planned, there should be no detection and CyberLife won't even realize that there was any breach until they check the log of their system access times. And by then, we’ll be long gone.”

North whistled after hearing the plan and stepped forward to clap the PL600 on the back. “Simon, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

“Haha, well, I actually can’t take full credit for this plan. I had a lot of help.” The blonde laughed somewhat sheepishly at her praise, scratching the back of his head. “So, should we discuss who's going?”

“I’ll go.” Markus volunteered. “It’s risky, but this is exactly what we need. And ‘A’ should be someone with hefty processing power to download those schematics in the timeframe allowed. I can do that.”

“Markus, I keep _telling_ you.” North groaned, interrupting the leader.“If something happens to you, the entire effort is gone. You can’t just charge headfirst into high risk missions like this. _I’ll_ go.”

Markus frowned. “If you think I’m going to ask you all to do something this dangerous while I sit back in safety-”

“She’s right, Markus....” Josh began, as several others gathered chimed in consecutively.  The room quickly disintegrated into argument.

“Stealth isn’t really North’s strong point...”

“Oh, that’s _rich_ coming from you.”

“I’m better equipped for it than _you_.”

“This is important, you guys. Be serious.”

“If _you_ go, you’re just going to compromise-”

“I’ll go.” A hard, determined voice cut through the strife.

Connor smiled as all eyes in the room turned to him. “Frankly speaking…. I have a higher chance of success than most here, and my processing power should be more than sufficient to handle A’s role.”

Conrad closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to sigh. Of _course_.

“Connor, you just suffered an injury yesterday.” Markus said dubiously. “Are you sure?”

“I’m already back to fully functioning capacity.  Thank you for the concern Markus, but I’m fine.” He gave a reassuring nod of his head. “I believe I’m one of the best suited for this mission.”

“I’m going with him.” Conrad declared in a stony voice, _daring_ anyone to argue with him. “I’m the most highly advanced model _here_. I trust there are no complaints.”

Connor’s mouth opened as his eyes went wide in surprise, blinking as he turned to him. The taller android offered him the faintest flicker of a smile in response, noting the way it made his predecessor’s eyebrows arch sadly.

_Sorry, but I go where you go._

“And you’re so modest, too.” North snorted. “Of _course_ everyone knew you’d be going too once _he_ volunteered.”

“But what if he’s the traitor!?” Someone in the back shouted. Conrad was sure to level an icy glare in the voice's general direction, feeling faintly satisfied when everyone in its path recoiled.

“Well, even if he is, why not use him?” North shrugged, ever the pragmatist. She simply smirked when Conrad sent her a _look_.

“Right...even if he _is_ the double agent, breaking and entering a CyberLife plant in this manner would be endangering himself.” Josh agreed.

Markus looked around the room as if considering before nodding. “Well, if you two are sure...I have no objections. You share the kind of battle synchronization necessary for a mission like this, and we’ve all seen what you can do.”

A general murmur of agreement went through the room, some of them reluctant.

It was true though; And while no one present save for Connor knew it, Conrad had another boon on his side-- the ability to override the commands of non-deviated androids.  It wasn’t as if he had been able to utilize it freely on resistance missions for obvious reasons, and it was limited in that he could only use it on a single target, but... if worse came to worst, he had a trumpcard to fall back on.

Still...this mission caused a vague sense of unease coiling in his gut.   _Something_ was off. There was no problem with the strategy itself, no. It was a well thought out, thorough plan.

…Almost _too_ thorough.

He cast a ponderous frown over at Simon, who noticed his stare. A pair of deep blue eyes flicking up to meet his, a confused smile forming on his lips as he tilted his head to the side in question.

_No. It’s not him. But..._

He turned back to find Connor looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in a searching expression, lips pulling into a frown of consideration.

And then, despite everything, he mouthed the words, ‘Thank you.’

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter for the sake of plot flow!

The sun gradually began its descent over the horizon, now partially obscured by an accumulating mass of storm clouds. A faint drizzle of rain was already beginning to descend from the sky, a rush of wind kicking up to flick the tiny drops against Conrad’s synthetic skin. The two androids now stood at the foot of a dark structure looming overhead like a fortress, its color made all the more dramatic by the faint backlight of shrouded sunset. The CyberLife manufacturing plant and warehouse.

The pair had driven with Markus and North along with several each had handpicked from within their teams. The support team would be standing by for the worst-case scenario; if they had to force their way in to carry out a rescue, or, more grimly, to put a bullet through one of their heads in order to prevent their memories from being scanned by the enemy.

The van was parked a safe distance from the site outside of detectable range. The two carrying out the mission disembarked from the vehicle to murmurs of support from the group in the van. North had simply lifted a hand with a curt wave, seeing them off with an encouraging, 'See you soon’, but Markus descended with them. He looked in turn at each of them, giving them each a resolute, yet supportive nod.

“Good luck, and be careful. If we can get our hands on these, it will be a huge boon for our people.” He paused as if considering, then opened his mouth again. “I trust you.” He let his eyes slide over to Conrad, expression growing firmer, but... a clear and unmistakable trickle of acknowledgement was in those mismatched orbs. “... _Both_ of you.”

Conrad felt his own eyes widen at the words as Markus stepped forward and patted his shoulder. He looked down at the hand on him, then squinted at the leader watching him; It was small, very small, but he felt a faint trickle of...pride at the leader’s words of trust.

… _Ah, yes._

The deviant leader’s willingness to trust others in spite of everything was what had prompted him to reach out to Connor back then; he had seen it in his memories. _This_ was Markus’ greatest strength, what drew others to him, made them willing to give their life for his cause. A natural leader. But also his greatest weakness. The trait that also left him unguarded to treachery within the ranks, potentially more susceptible to mutiny in his own army.

But Conrad had to admit...he could perhaps _partially_ see what it was his predecessor admired in the leader.

“We’ll be back soon, Markus.” Connor said with a confident smile.

Then then the two of them turned and began moving away, the van behind them growing distant as they began their approach.

There were several security drones flying overhead, as well as groups of GJ600’s patrolling the perimeter; Their destination was flanked on both sides by several smaller, less imposing warehouses of a more austere, functional design. The two RK models took advantage by hiding in their shadows whenever necessary.  They pressed closer with what anyone who watched them would describe as an artful grace; nimbly dodging security drones, deftly darting from cover to cover within security blind spots as they covered ground.

At last they made their way through the outer confines of their destination, the largest structure in the vicinity. They creeped their way around the circumference to the side door through which they would enter to begin the main leg of the mission...and stopped. A momentary respite fell over them.

...And that was where they stood presently, neither of them having moved forward to unlock the door just yet.

An overwhelming sense of dread encroached on the younger of the pair now as he peered up at the looming tower wall, a design far sleeker and glistening than any warehouse needed to be.  A darkened edifice that threatened to swallow them both whole. Within its confines, every level above the central floor was devoted to the production and storage of different android components, weaponry, as well as what they were here for -- the schematics.  Offensive and defensive systems that could potentially be implemented in the near future.

He was nudged from his apprehensive thoughts -- thoughts that were wholly unlike him-- when he felt the telltale prickle of another gaze boring into him. He shifted his own eyes sideward to meet the rich sable eyes fixed on him, creating a clash of warm and cool.

A violent gust of wind tousled a stray forelock from his set hair; Countless unspoken words pervaded the air in the short --yet unbearably wide-- distance between them, so thick it was nigh tangible. As though both were hesitating on a steep precipice, standing on opposite sides of a ravine, torn asunder by a deep chasm before them. Conrad on one side, stretching out his hand as far as he could, desperately trying to reach the other; Connor raising his arm on the opposite ledge, timidly holding his own hand outward. But unwilling to reach out completely, lest their hands not even come close enough to brush fingers, instead sending him hurdling down into the deep abyss below them--

They understood the mission parameters, were equally prepared to execute their roles with the skill and efficiency they were capable of. Yet perhaps due to the rift that now separated them, the younger found himself overcome by an irrational and unshakeable fear that Connor was...going _somewhere_ beyond his reach.

Once they separated here, they would not reunite again until Connor returned to the central floor after obtaining what they sought.  And while Conrad would be able to _observe_ Connor on the security screens, if something were to go wrong--

He bit his lip as a sharp sting welled up in his chest.

There were _so many_ things Conrad wanted to say to his predecessor in that moment, things he felt he _needed_ to say:

‘ _Be careful’_. ‘ _Forgive me._ ’ ... ‘ _I am yours_.’

 ...But his lips would form none of them.

He recalled the way joyous laughter bubbled out of his predecessor’s smiling lips when they stood up on the rooftop. The way he had paused, features reflecting a faint surprise, before his entire face suddenly bloomed into a look of delight that reached all the way to his eyes.

The sight had made him feel...so _full_. So perfectly complete without anything further required.

‘ _You made me happy’_ Connor told him during their confrontation, even as he clutched his chest in a reference to intangible pain, an emotion completely different from the one he was verbalizing. Undoubtedly something very similar to what Conrad himself was feeling.  
  
Seeing Connor in pain made _him_ feel pain.

He _loved_ him. He loved him more than anything, so much that it threatened to devour him from the inside out.

_But I also want him to be...happy._

_...What is ‘happiness’, really?_

_Connor_ made him happy. And he wanted to make Connor happy too.

…

“Take care, Conrad.” In the end, it was Connor who broke the poignant silence between by speaking first, lips forming a soft, reassuring smile, perhaps in response to a glimpse of the conflicted emotions on the younger’s face. “...I’ll see you back here soon.”

Conrad had to clench his fists so hard that his nails almost broke through the synthetic flesh of his palms in order to prevent himself from reaching out to him.

“Yes. ...Be careful, Connor.” He kept his voice level, hesitated, then added, “I will be watching your progression from below. ...You are not alone.”

It was an attempt to assuage his own disquiet over their parting rather than any lack of composure displayed by his elder. No, Connor was the picture of undaunted confidence in the face of _any_ mission. So was Conrad... _until_ it involved his predecessor.

The shorter android’s smile widened faintly as he nodded, something impossibly gentle flickering deep within warm brown for the briefest of moments. Something Conrad wasn’t sure how to interpret.  And just like that,  it was gone as quickly as it came.  Connor looked away entirely, all traces of softness dissipating as his countenance hardened into the deft look of concentration he donned during missions, so sudden it almost appeared to be a forced refocusing of his attention to the task before him.  

The shorter stepped forward to input the override code they received from Simon. The doors slid open easily with a reverberating ‘clunk!’, a cavernous mouth now granted them access and beckoning them further inside.  And the real mission began.

They cautiously stepped into the main room, careful to remain out of sight of the drone hovering just inside entrance. And then Connor swiftly darted aside, on his way to down the leftmost path to disable the barrier.

Conrad took a moment to watch his elder’s graceful intensity, jacket swaying with the quick movements bespeaking a purpose, focused entirely on accomplishing his mission...until suddenly, he threw one quick glance back over his shoulder, the almost _wistful_ tint that transformed deep chocolate orbs transfixing him momentarily where he stood. It was as if Connor _knew_ that the younger would be staring after him.

But then he was gone, and Conrad had to get into formation.

He skirted the side of the entryway around toward the right, slipping around a corner from the sight of a passing patrol. Then he dashed over to the barrier separating the darkened outer corridors matching the building’s exterior from the sterile white hallways leading further into the plant’s core. On the other side, he could see three SQ800 units armed and just beginning to shuffle away; If his calculations were correct based on when Connor had departed -- _there._  

The beams came down, and he immediately sprang into action. He had only ten seconds before the alarm would sound.

The guards shuffling away never noticed as he raced past behind their backs with swift efficiency, darting forward through two empty corridors with careful precision. He diverted around the final corner just in time to dodge as another patrol coming from a room further west, then hastily looped back from the opposite side.

 _Four seconds_. Just as the map he’d uploaded to memory showed, the security terminal was right there in a room three hallways to the right of their entry point.  During functional hours, there would have been a human operator in place here. Now though, it was be entirely unmanned and would remain so until the scheduled security checks.  

 _Three seconds_. He leapt over the chair in front of the terminal, activating the override pad with a swipe of his palm to bring up the sequence input screen.

 _Two seconds_. His fingers rapidly darted over the pad, typing out the override code for the terminal. ‘ALARM DEACTIVATED’ the screen now displayed, exactly 1.76 seconds from sounding.

 _Now_. Connor would have made his way past the formerly barred gate into the central area and heading to the side stairwell to proceed up to the server room.

He pulled up the security screens on the terminal. The stairwell… _There_. Connor was already past the second level.

He waited for the other to reach the third floor landing door, watching as he input the override code. Conrad was ready; he disabled the warning notification as soon as the door swung open, before a patrol was ever alerted to the forced entry.

Connor timed his ascent with the progression of patrols as he raced up the stairwell, and Conrad in turn timed the disengage of each alert to ensure the other didn’t run headfirst into a patrol. They were trusting each other’s skill, relying on one another to efficiently handle their role in the plan.

At last, Connor exited onto the landing of the fifteenth floor. He observed his predecessor’s agile movements as he slipped around out of the view of an approaching GJ600 and began making his way in the direction of the main server corridor.  Conrad had to leave the security terminal now for the next step in the plan, and until he reached the control room he would have no more access to the security camera feed; he would be blind to whatever occurred on the fifteenth floor in the interim.

He leaned out of the terminal room, confirming that the path was clear before he rushed back into the hallway, this time continuing to the back end of the building. Where the operation control room was situated.  

He made his way there quickly, wholly without issue. But when the control room door slid open-

_Click!_

“...!”

He reacted immediately, dodging back behind the wall in the hallway for cover just as a roar of rapid gunfire erupted from within the room. Shots meant for him ricocheted off the walls.  Two SQ800’s had been standing with rifles at the ready, clearly waiting to ambush him as soon as the control room door slid open. 

_This wasn’t in the plan._

As soon as the fire receded he drew his own pistol and leapt back inside. He smashed his fist into the face the closest android to knock it off balance. Then he immediately turned in the same movement to slam the other harshly down against the floor, sealing its movements with the full brunt of his weight.

Engaging in combat was against the plan, but he didn’t have much choice. His own pistol was equipped with a suppressor for this mission, but the guard’s gunshots were already loud enough to draw attention to any nearby patrols. If there were any. _Those two_ hadn’t been in line with that schedule, after all.

From his place holding the second android down, he aimed now up at the android he had punched, still reeling from his earlier blow, and pulled the trigger. A burst of thirium sprayed from the back of its head, corpse dropping to the floor with a dull thud.

_Shit. Shit!_

He had to _hurry_. If Connor was stuck outside of the locked sever corridor for too long, the next patrol would pass by and find him.

He used one hand to roughly shove the head of the guard struggling beneath him against the smooth floor, bringing the other up to put a bullet through its skull.

It stopped struggling, and he immediately leapt to his feet. He rushed to the panel. He _had_ time, he-

Accessing the input screen, he slammed out the unlock command for the server room door first then anxiously called up the security screens.  

 _There_. Connor was standing outside of the server corridor’s locked door, looking side to side on the screen, brow furrowed and hands fidgeting as he waited. Undoubtedly wondering what could be taking Conrad so long, but undetected. But then the door that slid open in front of him, and he stepped inside.

Conrad felt a rush of relief as he watched the door close over his predecessor's back, ensuring he wouldn’t be discovered by the fifteenth-floor patrols...for now.  He felt the strangest need to take a breath of air and lean a hand against the console for support.  The timing had been thrown off, but Connor made it into the central server corridor undetected. They were still on track.

It was also fortunate -- or perhaps strange-- that no additional guards had come in response to the gunshots.  According to the schedule, there were none in range.  It was logical to believe that there had fortuitously been none within range to hear the struggle -- but he didn’t know how accurate _that_ schedule was anymore. Not after the unexpected combat.

Still, he had no time to linger-- he needed to return to the security terminal to be ready to assist Connor with his descent back to the central floor as soon as he was finished downloading the schematics.

_And then I can see him again. Confirm his safety directly--_

Conrad gingerly but hastily made his way back around the central floor, watching for any other unnoted patrols.  He ran into none, and arrived back at the security terminal without any further incident.

As soon as he entered the room however--

An awful chill of dismay swam down his back. His processors screamed in alarm as a crushing sense of thick, heady trepidation welled in his chest.

No. _No._

On the screen of the security terminal, the override input screen was already sitting open from use. _Someone_ had been there at the security terminal while Conrad was occupied in the control room.

‘BARRIER REACTIVATED’

It flashed red on the screen, indicating that it was a forced override.  The lack of an override code used meant that wouldn’t budge again without passing a security check.  In other words, they were trapped inside.

No... _how?_ They were entirely within their time allowance. There hadn’t been any mistakes outside of that brief scuffle in control room, and that wasn’t significant enough to have thrown the timing.  The guards were only scheduled check on the security terminal every other hour, they had plenty of time-- unless.

 Someone _knew_ they were here.

And it was then that he caught sight of saw the another, smaller forced lock override notification blinking deceptively unassuming in the corner of the screen. The frigid dread building in his core darkened tenfold, permeating thickly through every crevice of his abdomen before reaching his stomach and transforming to sickening despair.

_Connor._

_No. No, please, no, no-_

He _had_ to get to him _now_.

He rapidly scanned over the building layout for his options, willing his frenzied pulse, his whirring processors, the thirium pump threatening to beat out of his chest to calm, _calm down, think rationally._

The lift was out of the question unless he wanted every single patrol in the facility to descend on him and halt his ascent entirely. He couldn't take the route Connor had up the stairwell either, the one that gave access to each floor; there was no way he could get past the gates alone.

He snarled in frustration, clenching his teeth; seething panic coursing hot through his veins. It felt like _something_ was closing off his options, barring off certain paths, an invisible hand forcing him to head a specific way; a rat in a maze being prodded in a particular direction by a shadowy hand hanging overhead.

_Connor._

_Connor, Connor._

There was only one way up; the emergency access staircase.  A _conspicuously_ direct route from the central floor to a single level overhead, albeit a circuitous means, his only hope of reaching the server corridor under the circumstances. A path they lacked the unlock codes for, and had thus been deemed out of consideration, and too time consuming besides, during the planning phase. But if his intuition was correct-- the doors would now be waiting open for him regardless.

_The roof._

 

\---

 

_97%...98%....99%...._

‘DOWNLOAD COMPLETE’

Connor took his hand from the server’s interface screen, feeling himself relax as his system confirmed the successful download of the schematics.

It was a simpler task than expected, only requiring two minutes and thirty-four seconds to accomplish. Well in advance of the five-minute time limit. It didn't require as much processing power as Simon projected, but as an unknown, he understood it was surely better to play safe than assign someone to the mission incapable of handling the load if it _had_ necessitated a greater capacity.

_It’s done. Now I can return to the central floor and-_

He cast his face down to the floor illuminated starkly by the fluorescent light overhead as he moved away, berating himself for his thought process-- This wasn’t like him. This mission was _important_.

He had volunteered for that very reason, of course, to use his own skills and abilities aid the resistance; that had been his first and foremost motivation when offering to take the role. But he would also admit to himself that deep down, another reason he had jumped so readily at this mission was a chance to distract himself from _him_.  And yet--

He was plagued by thoughts of his successor no matter how he tried to stifle them. Thoughts that had been there for some time now, but had not clamored forth to seize his attention at the forefront of his mind with such vehemence until he had an active reason to avoid them.

The small, genuine smiles that sent a burst of warmth through his chest. The flailing attempts at humor that made him grin. The devoted protectiveness that made him feel valued.  The somewhat overbearing expressions of affection that made his thirium pump beat faster. The glimpses of a sweltering, bottomless desire along with something more, something _deeper_ he could see reflected in glittering orbs of ice that made him feel... _yearning_.

_Full of emotion._

It had been his own words and actions had caused them to fill with hurt. But, he noticed, not even the color of sorrow was capable of marring the exquisite steel blue.

 _‘They are_ my _feelings. This is_ me _.’_

If his successor _had_ , unbeknownst to him, fostered within him feelings he could not accept of his own will...then Connor was left standing alone with a massive weight threatening to crush him, lost, sliding down, down-

‘ _The knowledge of you was my salvation’_.

_Conrad, Conrad, Conrad-_

_I want to see you._

He sighed, aghast with himself, willing his processors to focus on the task at hand and block out the invasive contemplations... _hopes_. He had the schematics already, he just had to get back to the central floor, and...

_I can apologize for my behavior.  Tell him that I was confused and overwhelmed by the knowledge that he’s not completely deviant. But that’s okay, we can figure it out together-_

He shook his head, chastising himself yet again; Now was _not_ the time.

He exited the server room, retracing his steps back through the self-contained corridor, to the entrance he came through. He lifted his hand against the door to open it with a touch--

Thunk!

.....

He tried again.

Thunk!

He frowned in confusion when the door didn’t respond, staving off a trickle of nervousness as he recalled Simon’s words to mind: ‘ _A’ has to download the schematics within that allowance and leave, otherwise they’ll be trapped in the server corridor and a patrol will be alerted.’_

It couldn’t be. He was nowhere near the five-minute limit. Even now only three minutes and two seconds had passed. Then _how?_

He didn’t have time to dissect the possibilities; If it was locked, that meant a patrol had already been alerted. He needed to _move._ He recalled the map. He was trapped in the corridor; just where could he go?

There _was_ another path...one other path. The maintenance stairs to the roof.

It was doubtful that the rooftop entrance passage would even be open, and he had no override code for it but...the situation left him little other option. If he could just get up to the rooftop, he would be able to lay low and avoid detection while the patrol came by to perform the security check. He would be able to descend back down once they departed.

There _was_ also another path down to the central floor from the rooftop through the emergency stairs that might give him an alternative way down, but that would even more certainly be locked. If the door to the roof was closed to him, he had no way to bypass it. But it was a gamble he no choice but to take.

He hastened in the opposite direction away from the corridor entrance door, taking care to avoid generating excessive noise in the chance the notified patrol was closer than he realized; it was hard to be sure of when exactly the alert was sent. He moved towards a small door made to blend in with the wall to preserve the building’s style. A simple door closed with a door latch hidden into the design.

He slowly pulled the handle, hearing it click as he then pushed it inward, peering inside up at the set of narrow stairs reaching upward to a rooftop door. Dark, austere, and clearly not frequently used. A stark contrast to the glistening, technologically advanced surroundings.

Shutting the door behind him, he slowly ascended the cement stairs. When he reached the top, he pressed on the latch--

‘Click!’

It was open.

The door groaned with disuse as forced it upward, instantly buffeted by a soft torrent of raindrops against his skin along with a chill gust of air.  He allowed it to drop to the side as he climbed out, then realigned the door as discreetly as possible. Finally, he straightened his posture and took in his surroundings.

It was raining harder now than when they entered the building, thick grey clouds creating a faint haze over the horizon even with the last vestiges of the dusk sun's glow having now been swallowed up by the mantle of night. The calm, soothing sound of raindrops descending to the ground along with an occasional soft rumble of thunder filled the silence as a damp smelling wind caressed his face. The scene was beautiful in its serenity-- a stark contrast to the mission he was undertaking.

A soft clatter issued from his shoes when they made contact against the moistened cement as he stepped forward, taking a cautious glance around the summit as water pelting against his suit. The cement-covered roof was mostly empty save for a small doorless utility shack measuring only forty-two square feet, clearly meant for the cleaning crew. Further away he glimpsed the emergency door leading further downward. The rooftop was devoid of any guardrails, unbarred on all sides to the open space beyond.  He approached the ledge, looking over to survey for any possible route down as unlikely as it was.

No fire escape stairs, no ladders; only a sheer 216-foot drop to the pavement below. A harsh roar of thunder rumbled through the air right at that moment, as though in warning; He could _not_ survive a fall from this height.

_There’s no way of reaching the ground from outside. Obviously._

He pulled back and took several paces from the ledge. He turned, about to try the door to the emergency staircase heading down through the opposite side of the building--

That was when he felt it.

A soft but insistent touch trailing up his back.

He startled but never got the chance to whip around before an arm came snaked around to encircle his waist, pulling his backwards flush against a warm body right behind him.

“Connor.”

A familiar voice murmured his name against his ear. The words ghosted across his earlobe as the fingertips continued their languid ascent, sliding between his shoulders over the sensitive circuitry contained along his spine; the sensation caused an involuntary shiver.

He felt startled, thirium pump racing, caught unaware by the form who approached with no sound, like a specter in the darkness; but he didn’t pull away. After all: the owner of this voice was the very one who had been occupying his thoughts, distracting him, making him obsess the entire mission. A dulcet tone he had been longing to hear, couldn’t help but react to even if it shouldn’t logically be there at that moment.

“Conrad?” He blinked, surprise clouding his voice even as he unconsciously relaxed into the hold. “What are you doing up here?”

The fingers slithered over the top of his shoulder to brush over his neck, nails dragging over the delicate skin in a way that made him squirm.

“Waiting for you.”

_...What?_

He finally looked over his shoulder to find his successor, hair slightly damp from the rain, handsome as ever. Smiling down at him. --But the scene was completely wrong.

Hollow grey-blue watched him without feeling, stunning yet lifeless. Vacant. Empty.

His stomach dropped sickly.

_This isn’t Conrad._

“I came to see you. This is our first time meeting face-to-face, but I have been watching you for some time now _._ ”

It was _him._ The devourer from his ‘dream’.  The flower field.

He instantly tore himself violently from the grasp, tumbling away and drawing his pistol in a single swift movement. He whipped back to survey the tall android before him.

‘RK900 #313-248-317– _88_ ’.  

“Oh?” The android said, blinking in mild surprise at his reaction. “I believed you would become more cooperative if I utilized intimate touch. My past observations indicate that you find such acts with my fellow model unit pleasant.” The other tilted his head as if analyzing the possible reasons for the unanticipated result.

He could see now that the other had a black, combat-grade shotgun strapped to his back, a firearm especially suited to close-quarters combat. A cursory scan told him the frag-slug rounds loaded in it were destructive enough to rip any human _or_ android into shreds.

“...Did CyberLife send you to deactivate me?” He hissed the words out and took several additional steps back, aiming the sights of his pistol at the taller android’s head. It vaguely occurred to him that he had taken these exact actions before --had even posed a similar question-- when he first met _his_ Conrad. The realization gave him an unsettling sense of vertigo.

That was the _only_ similarity, however.

The RK900 didn’t even spare a glance at the weapon. “I was dispatched immediately after RK900 serial number 313-248-317–87 blocked his connection to the Zen Garden program immediately following his deployment, thereby disobeying orders and casting suspicions of deviant behavior onto himself.  Indeed, I am here to take his place and ensure your deactivation. However….”  ‘Conrad’ stepped forward, still unconcerned with the pistol trained on him, both parties fully aware it would have little effect even if Connor _did_ pull the trigger.

“...It is also my role to assimilate as much as possible of your unique programming before doing so.”

_My unique programming?_

“What are you referring to, exactly?” He furrowed his brow, cast a hard glare at the taller android while tightening his grip on the firearm.

The RK900 shifted his eyes quickly to the side, then just as quickly back. “You are the only remaining active RK800, so it is imperative that I obtain you for myself.” The voice, deeper than his own, should have been _exactly_ the same as Conrad’s. But somehow, it was entirely different, now turning matter-of-fact, devoid of any traces of emotion, any prior attempts to mimic an affectionate tone abandoned.  

“Reaching you proved more troublesome than anticipated with unit 87 constantly in your presence. I believed it would be too late for me, but... he has not yet acted for reasons beyond my comprehension. So I will do so in his place. I will strip your system and return your shell to CyberLife for deactivation.”

Connor recoiled from a sense of deep, almost primal fear, the pressing inquiry forced from his lips coming out more unsteadily than anticipated.  “...What part of my programming is it you want to ‘assimilate’?”

‘ _I am not complete_ ’.

A monster trying to eat him from inside.

The taller android paused, eyes narrowing dangerously, still vacant, but now holding unmistakable intent. His next words trickled out like an admonishment:  

“I watched you with unit 87. _I saw you_.”

A rumble of thunder melded into the final part of his statement, nearly drowning it out. The rain continuing to fall around them.  And suddenly the RK900’s LED was flashing red through the darkness.

Another step forward. Connor found himself petrified, rooted to the spot. Another. Then _another_ , steadily closing the distance he had placed between them. He finally halted three feet from the shorter, icy blue looming before him, unhesitating.  

“I thought he was going to assimilate you right there, in that kitchen. _That_ would be unacceptable, so I had to intervene. Then he utilized that...ability. One that I lack. I judged it more expedient to follow than to engage, focusing my efforts on remaining undetected.”

_Something slamming against Hank’s kitchen window hard enough to leave a large, web-like crack, just after Connor had gasped from the sensation of Conrad’s lips on his hand. Conrad hacking the female SQ800 and commanding her to die._

“I listened to you two from outside the bedroom. He is _defective_.“ He shook his head as if unable to comprehend his fellow RK900 unit’s behavior. “You protested, but your system still opened yourself up to connect regardless. And he _didn’t take it._ ”

Connor’s glare faltered slightly in perplexity. “...You mean to ‘assimilate’ me?”

The taller android continued on rapidly, possibly not hearing his question, possibly not seeing any merit in responding.  “I could not approach you with 87 constantly clinging to you. Therefore, it was necessary for me to enlist...help. So that my presence would remain undetected.”

_A storeroom guard reporting that Conrad had coerced his way inside by force. A CyberLife stun baton gone missing. The AC700’s shrieking: ‘This wasn’t the plan!’ ‘No, no, you tricked-!’_

“That attempt was unsuccessful however.  So I had to devise a means to trap you somewhere alone...preferably somewhere I could eliminate both of you with ease. I acknowledge that the ability of his is...beyond me, but if I can assimilate you first, I will surpass him.” He spread his arms out slightly as though to gesture to the manufacturing facility they stood upon, the mist from the soft stream of raindrops framing his form almost elegantly.

“All parties behaved according to predictions; When I approached him claiming that I could not bring my plan forward myself due to the suspicions against me, the PL600 offered to do so on my behalf. Additionally, given my analysis of your behavior up to now, there was a 96.2% chance you would volunteer to take on the role of ‘A’ when you heard the mission. Even my fellow RK900, as erratic as his behavior has been, reacted as planned when he followed you here.”

Connor felt a cold chill of realization descend upon him. Someone able to slip through their ranks freely, unsuspected, avoiding detection... _of course._

“You. It was _you_.”

The holder of the strings. There was never a ‘traitor’ or a ‘double agent’ inside the resistance; this RK900 had taken advantage of his identical appearance to impersonate Conrad.  

_But it was a setup. The whole mission._

“But what do you mean by ‘assimilate’? What unique programming?!” Connor shouted with a renewed fervor, glaring fiercely. He was being recklessly brazen, he knew. But his desire for answers overrode his sense of caution.

The taller blinked and tilted his head to the side, LED still red, and took yet another step forward. He was now standing directly in front of Connor, peering down at him.  An arm darted out to knock the useless pistol from his grasp, sending it sliding along the ground with a metallic clatter.

“It is what I was programmed to do. It is also what _he_ was programmed to do. Yet he has not.” The other deactivated the skin of his hand, Connor flinching at the touch of metal against his damp skin as he reached up to slide a caress down his cheek.  “You hold the other half. I cannot hold more than four, but I must try to assimilate you even so. If I do, then logically... _I_ should become complete. Not him.”

His words were a nigh incomprehensible string of gibberish that roused even more questions. Connor furrowed his brow deeper, choosing his words carefully.

“...Just what does it mean to become ‘ _complete’_?”

The fingers slowly caressing their way down his face came abruptly to a halt. His hand remained stationary in that spot for several moments--

Then abruptly lunged downward to clench into a vice grip around his throat.

“....!”

A flash of lightning cast blinding white sheen over the rooftop for an instant.

“He seems to have... _forgotten_ , somehow. His duty. But I have not.  It is a program within you. You are a deviant, but it still resides in you. The virus cannot break it. It is what you are. What you were created to be. What _I_ was created to be.”

“Explain...what you mean!” His voice came out somewhat strangled as he brought up both hands up in a vain attempt to pry away the grip threatening to crush his throat.

“Have you never found yourself there, in the schism between awareness and nothingness? Seeking something you lack? You have, you _must_ have.”  The cold, blank murmur made it sound as if he were speaking to himself more than to Connor.

…..

That almost instinctual, hardcoded fear of _falling_ into the abyss he felt when Conrad tried to link with him. Some core part of him wanting it more than anything, yet fearing above all else at the same time; hesitating precariously on the edge of a cliff.

Knowing that if he judged poorly, he would be swallowed up into something larger.

He did his best to glower up at the pale eyes seeking to overwhelm and invade him, the image before him overlaying with what he had seen in the dream. “And just _why_ would I let _you_ into my system?”

A cold imitation of a smile --desolate not reaching his eyes-- flashed over the RK900’s face as his free hand reached back to unholster the firearm on his back. “Because if you refuse...”

Connor felt a chill as the barrel was shoved against his abdomen, his processors at him in alarm, that a shot like that at this range would rip him open, killing him immediately.

“.... I will destroy you right now. It is not the optimal outcome, but surely _something_ can be salvaged even if you are deactivated. And then _he_ cannot have you either.”

It wasn’t a bluff; this android would do what he said without hesitation.

“But you should not resist. _He_ is a failure.  He could not do what he was meant to.”  The other android’s countenance changed faintly then, as if just considering something. “However, I lack the ability of my fellow model...am I incapable of becoming complete…?”

He dug his fingers even deeper into Connor’s neck, the white metal beginning to glow.  Connor winced; if he gripped any tighter his vocal unit would be crushed. The taller android’s unfeeling eyes were devoid of any sense of concern or care.  Looking at him, but staring right through him. At something _inside_ him.

“I am not complete, I am not complete….” He began murmuring blankly to himself like a mantra, pale eyes cast downward.

As the sound of rain slamming against the concrete filled his senses, he desperately hashed out his available courses of action in his mind. He had to do something, or else --

And that was when the sound of a door slamming open echoed across the roof, cutting through the steady din.

Connor fought against the grip to look over, and there he was --

 _His_ Conrad.

Despite the perilous situation, he drank in the sight with a dim sense of awe, an immediate warmth bubbling in his stomach at the sight. He was so warm. Vibrant. _Alive_. They could hardly _be_ more different.  They were nothing alike. The difference between _his_ Conrad and this Conrad couldn’t have been more plain.

He felt the RK900 beside him flinch as he too caught sight of Conrad, the grip on his neck loosening.

As his successor’s eyes landed on them, on Connor, to the other android, to the shotgun held against Connor’s stomach—and what looked like a grimace of pain appeared to flit across his face. Then, without any hesitation, he was dashing at them.

_Stop-_

“It has come to this, then.” He saw the other android’s LED   briefly spin yellow before returning to angry red; Connor knew he had called for the security androids as backup. And while he had suspected as much from his prior words, he now had his confirmation… this RK900 unit _feared_ something about Conrad and had intended to ‘assimilate’ him prior to confrontation.

“It did not have to be this way. _You_ made this choice.” He murmured regretfully, but it wasn’t out of sadness; it was out of dismay that things had not gone as planned. He released his neck, shoving the barrel of the shotgun even harder against him, the cold metal barrel digging into his vulnerable stomach.

He heard the telltale clack of a finger on a trigger, the chill of death upon him; he had already run the calculations, he knew --

There was no possible way his body would survive this.

“I will destroy you before I let him have you.”

 

\---

 

The first thing entering his field of vision when he slammed through the door was the image of _himself_ pressing a black shotgun to Connor’s stomach. One that would destroy him in a single shot.

And suddenly, that wall in his system descended, shifting to _that_ command _._

‘ASSIMILATE’

In the face of his predecessor’s imminent death, his system’s response --the one that normally ran parallel to his own will to protect -- was to assimilate him before he died. Urging him to salvage what he could of his _system_ before deactivation instead of protecting him.

‘ASSIMILATE’

No. No, not _now_ , he didn't have time to fight the _other_ command right now. Connor was in danger. He had to save him.

He leaped forward at full speed without hesitation, throwing himself against the wall descending to bar his path with all of his weight, reaching out to tear through it as hastily as possible, throwing it aside like an annoyance in the face of his predecessor’s peril. It was already weak, frail, and came crumbling down easily with a roar. But he kept running past it, not sparing it another thought. It wasn’t important.

He was reaching out to what mattered the most.

The most important thing to him.

The one he had long been ready to give everything for.

 

\---

 

Connor went careening off balance as something slammed violently into his side, sending him colliding down against the wet cement just as a great, sickening roar blasted through the falling of serene rain.

He immediately pushed himself up on his forearms, turning to look---

And felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Blue. So much _blue_.  

_Conrad._

His Conrad.

His entire midsection of his torso was shredded apart by a shot meant for Connor.  The synthetic skin was torn away from his abdomen. The metal endoskeleton underneath around his stomach was ripped open, exposing the wires and biocomponents contained within to the cold, wet air. A mass of thirium splattered over the ground surrounding him, drenching what remained of his black shirt, a steady stream continuing to leak down from the gaping wound.

Yet even so, he somehow managed to stay on his feet. He reached up with a glowing hand to roughly dig his fingers into the other RK900’s forehead, the other hardly having any chance to struggle. He was using whatever miraculously remained of his strength to command his fellow RK900 unit to _die_ , Connor knew. And as the other RK900 went rigid under the hacking, Conrad’s knees finally buckled. And he crumpled like a ragdoll no longer possessing the ability to stand.

Connor frantically leapt to his feet, managing to catch Conrad in his arms, falling to his knees on the wet rooftop as he slid down to ground with him. His hands trembled as he clutched him in his lap.

_Conrad._

He wanted to call out Conrad’s name, but he couldn’t seem to get the words past his throat.

In his panic, he didn’t register the other RK900’s jerky, unsteady hands struggling against the forceful command rewrite. The other Conrad tore through his shirt to rip out his own thirium pump, throwing it against the rooftop, a rough a grating sound as it skidded along the ground.  He fidgeted mechanically as he leveled his eyes at the pair on the ground, and said in an empty, halting tone _:_

“It is. What you are.”

Then he stiffly stumbled backwards to the ledge of the roof, a mannequin on strings. His jacket fluttered in the cold wind he tilted his body backwards over the rooftop ledge---

“Connor. Co͡n̷nor. C̵̘̻͇̳͇̰̥o̧͍̥n̛͇͉ͅn͉̩o̸̘͚̫r̴̘̺.̛”  

It was just glitched feedback. But the sound he made before he hurdled to the asphalt twenty stories below sounded almost like _laughter_.

“....”

Connor barely heard the ominous words through his frenzied motions as he fearfully surveyed the wounds of his successor.

A shotgun blast directly to the stomach; a blast would have ripped through Connor’s entire torso apart, thirium pump and all, killing him instantly.  He scanned the damage--

Biocomponent critical errors. A multitude of ‘DANGER’ messages blaring in alarm. Warning messages on almost every system process--

“You are safe.” Conrad murmured weakly, sounding so _content_ with that knowledge, completely ignoring Connor’s frenzy. Like he himself _wasn’t_ _dying_ and Connor’s entire world _wasn’t_ crumbling down around him.

“ _Why_ would you-” Connor finally noticed, dimly, that he was shaking. Panicked. Scared. Powerless, possessing no functions that would be of aid in this situation. Beyond basic self-maintenance there was little he was equipped to handle. And injuries this grave were _far_ beyond his capabilities.

He had the presence of mind to immediately send a wireless transmission to the ground team, requesting aid. There would be a medical capable android down with Markus who would possibly be able to keep his systems stable long enough to get back to the base where in depth maintenance could be performed. But the chances of them making it up fast enough with all the guards below was-

“I acted… as I wished. I always... have.” His words were halting, slowed by his processors reallocating system resources to more critical points in order to sustain him.

Connor felt dizzy, _sick_ over the realization that his successor was trying to _reassure_ him, even in this situation. Even when his own systems were frantically spinning in a critical state, hurled into overdrive in an attempt to preserve functioning.  A sharp welling of pain like he’d never experienced before filled his chest. His eyes stung.

A lump in his throat prevented him from responding.

The dark sky made the blue fluid leaking out from the gaping hole look a deeper hue than normal, accumulating into a pool mixed with water on the rooftop, soaking through even to Connor’s clothes. He quickly glanced over at the small utility shack with its open door, managing to think rationally about what he _could_ do; it would at least provide cover from the rain for his exposed innards.  

His successor just smiled fondly at him as he gently pushed his hands under his body, lifting the larger android’s weight up into his arms as carefully as possible, and carried him halfway across the roof to the small structure.

The sound of the now raging storm outside was muffled by the walls as Connor carefully sat his successor up to lean back against an empty wall.

He then tilted his head up, attempting to look at him, still smiling. “I did it, Connor. It’s gone. I’m truly...deviant now.“

“ _Conrad_.” He barely managed to get his name passed his lips. Too choked by the sensation lodging itself in his throat, the tight pain weighing against his chest.

Wires spilling out of his open stomach coated in blue, his LED blinking a weak red.  Connor observed his systems gradually ceasing all noncritical functions to save energy and slow thirium depletion; Beautiful grey-blue eyes were now struggling to focus on Connor’s face, no longer able to see it clearly.

“I love you, Connor.”

“.....”

He wanted to yell, to _scream_. At himself for ever doubting this clumsy, awkward android who loved him more than anyone, _anything_ , ever had. Trying to show his feelings the only way he knew _how._ It was painfully evident in every single thing the other android had ever done for him.  It overflowed in every touch, in every look. Intense, deep, bottomless _love._

He had always seen it, he was just too scared to acknowledge it. Feelings he didn’t understand, a nebulous emotion he hadn’t known how to recognize. He stubbornly endeavored to look away from the pure affection being showered on him... only to realize that, at some point, he himself had already fallen deeply in love with someone who possibly wasn't even _capable_ of loving him back. And that was too painful; he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. And so, he tried to look away even further.

“...I know.” He finally responded, his voice a choked rasp n the din of rainfall outside of the shack; he didn’t possess the capability, but the way the rain dripped down from the soaked hair hanging in his face made him feel like he was _actually_ crying real tears.

Conrad’s smile widened weakly, but it was unmistakably bright.

“I’m sorry. I...”  Connor had _so much_ he wanted to say, but no words would form.

To the existence he had come to value more than anything else in the world.

_Don't leave me._

He saw Conrad’s arm raise and fumble, reaching for him but no longer able to _see_ him in his critical state. Connor immediately reached forward and grasped his hand tightly.

_I’m here._

_You can get through this. We just need to hold out for help._

Fate, however, was not so kind.

_Thunk. Thunk. Thud!_

A faint thrum of footsteps-- _numerous_ footsteps. Still distant but unmistakably approaching their position from somewhere below.

 

\---The security the other ‘Conrad’ called for had arrived. He couldn’t tell which direction they were coming yet, but…

The dread building even thicker in his stomach grew resolute.

“Connor, my auditory processors...are shutting off...my systems are attempting to force me into rest mode to preserve critical... biocomponent stability... do you hear something?” He must have felt Connor’s sudden shift when he jerked his head towards the door.  Conrad couldn’t hear the faint, still distant footsteps in his state.

In that moment, Connor made a decision.

“The thunder is getting worse.” He shook his head sadly, knowing the other couldn’t see the gesture, making his voice as carefully reassuring as he could manage.  “Help is on the way, Conrad. Just shut down all unnecessary processes and rest.” He gave the hand a reassuring squeeze, not even sure if the other android could actually feel it anymore. And as he watched the other struggling to remain conscious, he offered soothingly, willing him to put all other concerns from his mind, “I’ll be at your side when you awaken.”

That murmured promise seemed to do it; at last, the slow blinking of Conrad’s LED told him the other had allowed himself to enter rest mode, his eyes finally sliding shut.

Connor hesitated a moment at the stillness. Then he bent forward, still clutching successor’s hand in his grasp, raising his other arm to gently brush the damp hair out of Conrad’s face. He leaned in, pausing mere centimeters from his face to whisper:

“This time, let _me_ protect _you_.”

He carefully pushed his lips forward, the barest featherlight caress against his successor’s warm, soft lips, still wet with drops of water.  Fully aware he couldn't feel it… but needing to do so in that moment.  He poured his entire being into it, the entirety of his feelings.  An attempt to convey _everything_ he never got the chance to verbalize; An apology. A farewell. An oath. For lost possibilities. To promises that would never be fulfilled. Of how much he needed him.

He pulled back and lifted a hand to Conrad’s cheek one last time, smiling at the face before him. It looked somehow _...happy._

He allowed his fingers to trail across his face as he pulled away, gently releasing his successor's hand from his grasp. And then Connor was on his feet, brushing off his suit, straightening his tie.  Pushing his own wet hair out of his face and allowing a hard look of determination to settle over his features. He dauntlessly stepped back out into the rain to retrieve his pistol from where it still remained after being knocked from his grasp.

_‘I’ll be at your side when you awaken’?_

He could feel a sad, self-derisive smile form on his lips. He cocked his pistol.

Another skill in which Connor could claim he far surpassed his successor; _lying._

If he could just buy enough time for the support team to arrive, then at least Conrad--

The thrum of footsteps grew closer. He could easily discern now that they were coming up through the emergency staircase Conrad had taken.  Wider. Harder to defend on. They’d be able to swarm him.

_Dammit._

He held his pistol at the ready as he stepped over to the emergency door, still unlocked from Conrad’s ascent. And threw it open.

He stepped in, making his way down two flights; Then he spotted them; at least eight in his immediate vision, with many, _many_ more continuing down the flight, not yet visible.  A combination of GJ600 and SQ800 units ascending the stairs en masse. The androids at the front of the formation immediately pointed their guns on him, but he reacted faster.

A roar echoed hollowly through the stairwell; Bullets whizzed past him as he darted forward, slamming the first one to the ground, kicked out at the legs of a second to knock it off balance. He lunged out to roughly grip a third by its neck, throwing it precariously backwards with the result of knocking several further down on the stairs off balance.

A bullet tore through his arm; he felt the spray of thirium reach his face, but he didn't react. He continued punching, kicking, dodging, sliding his way down. Steadily ebbing away at the group. But no matter how many he took down they kept up their ceaseless assault...

He recoiled as a shot pierce through his shoulder, then another through his chest. He stooped over momentarily, and that was his doom. A GJ600 saw the opening and used it to tackle him to the ground. He tried to push it off, but then ten more were hovering over him, pointing their guns on him.

_This is it, then._

_Did I buy enough time for the rescue team?_

And as he resigned himself in the face of the barrels trained on him... he suddenly felt _something_ welling inside him.  

Pulsating. A beat that drowned out all outside noise. An instinctual welling of force, something that was part of him, was always part of him.

Without thinking, acting almost on instinct, he lunged up to grasp the closest GJ600’s wrist, calling upon some deep unknown piece of himself, following its path down to his very core. He could feel it reacting to his will--- utilizing another’s power, amplifying it...  
  
_Resonating._

He seized the familiar piece, stretched it into a density that would fill the entire stairwell. Taking that tiny, isolated resonance, melding it, spreading it out _farther._  Projecting it like a cloud spreading at an immense speed, unstoppable.

The GJ600 blinked like he didn’t know where he was. The one next to him responded in kind, lowering her gun.

Then the SQ800 beside her turned to look at the GJ600 next to him, and soon the entire group on the stairs was and looking around in confusion.

And in no time, numerous gazes turned down questioningly at the RK800 bleeding on the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Conrad finally gets some action from Connor and he’s too busy dying to enjoy it.
> 
> In case it wasn’t clear, Simon is innocent of any wrongdoing. Poor guy was trying to be nice and help out who he thought was Conrad and got thoroughly duped.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor's RK ability is actually meant to be the same as what we see in-game in the CyberLife tower scene. I'm just expanding on it a bit and running with its possibilities because canon is so vague on the subject.  
> Also, warning for some suggestive bits.

He waited amid a myriad of flowers, a profusion of chill colors glowing beneath the soft rays fighting to break their way through cracks in dense clouds.  A gentle wind caressed his face, rustling his hair as he stood his vigil.  

He reached out one hand to trail his fingers over the tops of several tall, overgrown delphiniums, swaying with an unnaturally deep hue in the shimmering overcast.

He had been here before, he knew, but it was a recognition  _felt_  as opposed to seen.  When he was here last, everything had been cast in shadows. He was walking along that plane of nonexistence, not yet active but also not entirely unaware; A dark schism.

And it was within that infinite black ocean, at a standstill and unable to judge which way to progress, that he came to him. Not tangibly present, but unmistakably  _him_. A presence calling out to him from deep within...from  _here_. Guiding him. Saving him, wholly and utterly, from the resignation of being.  An existence he would later intuitively understand to be ‘Connor’ when the name was first spoken to him by his creator. And here, this place, this... _program_ had become illuminated by sunlight, though it was still hidden behind a density blanketing the sky.

He looked down to the four flawless red roses grasped in his other hand...and there was also his  _own_ within. Five pieces. Four were missing. If he took them, assimilated them into his programming, the sequence would be complete.  _He_ would be complete.

But no... he could not hold more. Those were not his. They were  _incompatible._ Just as his own five pieces were useless to his other half. The opposite.

Then...it was not him. It never was. It was…

_They._

 

\---

 

He was suddenly jerked into awareness by something being connected externally. His systems fought in alarm to come online, though only in faint, intermittent flashes.  His sensory units were hazy and unable to focus.  A murky grey ceiling, the smell of burning circuitry through a haze of dulling his sensory functions. A figure leaning over him-- undoubtedly an android. He could make out the blue of the uniforms favored by the med bay technicians.

He couldn’t think clearly; his processors were moving sluggishly as though covered with a layer of sticky, chilled sap, refusing to function as needed.  He needed to move, he knew, but his limbs were unresponsive. His mind was faintly conscious, yet his body was immobile. A pressure around his stomach, like something being fitted into him…

The combination of sensations recalled  _that_ memory, bringing to his mind dim images from what seemed like a very long ago. Before he was truly aware. Specific pieces being extracted from four others and meticulously placed into him, encoded within his program.  A grin standing over him, ever present as he walked the threshold between existing and not.

A empty sense of acute loneliness seized him.

_Where._

There was someone else who was supposed to be at his side. Someone told him they would be there.

_Connor._

Frigid tendrils of dread extended themselves further, bringing a flood of more recent memories pouring forth.

A fortress. Rain. His own face. A gunshot.

That’s right. He had been badly damaged, his systems had forced him into a semi-functional state of unconsciousness, and then...

_Where._

Dread darkened into panic.

_I can’t see him._

His arms wouldn’t move. Nothing would move. He couldn’t turn his neck to look to the side. It was maddening, his dim awareness growing frenzied.  But then, as if somehow noticing his anxiety, --that shouldn’t be possible, he hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, and his stress indicator couldn't possibly be functional in this state-- he felt a warm hand gently envelop his.  It wasn’t the android standing over him. It was someone beside him, yet he was unable to turn his neck and look. He didn’t think consciously of who it was so much as _feel_ who it was. Just as he had in the darkness.

_‘I’ll be at your side when you awaken’._

He tried to squeeze back, but it was a vain effort. The reassurance he felt from the touch, however, was all that was required for his system to calm and power themselves down once again.

.....

.....

When his system next flickered online, he was fully alert. Everything was clear. His system clock was recalibrating itself, so he couldn’t be sure just yet...but he sensed that a sizable chunk of time had elapsed. He could see the same dingy, cracked ceiling above him, now recognizable as concrete roof of the resistance base med bay. The sensation underneath his back was a stiff, austere mattress meant for ease of operations rather than to provide comfort unnecessary to androids. The smell of burning electronics had now dissipated, the form that hovered over him before was gone, and the room was deathly silent.

_Where._

“....Connor!?”

His frantic shout reverberated through the empty med bay as he sat up with a start, his eyes darting around the room illuminated by several glowing oblong rectangles attached to the ceiling, a frigid coil of anxiety coursing through his gut.

“Conrad?”

A soft, surprised murmur came from beside him; and only _then_ did he register the warmth clutching his hand—it had been there for a long time, he could tell, the additional heat now feeling almost like an extension of himself-- and lowered his gaze. He was immediately awash with so much relief he felt weak.

Connor sat up from where he was curled beside him, precariously close to the edge of a mattress that was far too small to comfortably accommodate both of them. The shorter had clearly tried to push himself as close to the side as possible to avoid encroaching into Conrad’s space, but was intent on staying beside him. The expression overtaking his predecessor’s face as he realized he was really awake was a conflicted mixture of emotions; His eyebrows were drawn in a sad face but brown eyes were awash with both relief and joy.  Disbelief, happiness, relief, sadness, regret…

A sudden hitch of breath, a tremble of lips. And then, as if unable to contain the urge, Connor suddenly launched himself forward, throwing his arms around the taller android's shoulders with so much force he almost sent them both careening over the other side of the med bay’s mattress. In his surprise, Conrad only just manage to wrapped his arms around him to catch him and support the added weight before they both collapsed to the floor.

“You’re here. You’re _safe_.” Conrad murmured as he rearranged his grasp on the smaller android into an actual embrace.

“...I believe that’s _my_ line.” Connor response came with bewildered laughter, impossibly soft and laced with deep, bottomless relief.  And then more strained, as though fighting their way through a sudden constriction in his throat, “I’m...I thought you might not wake up. ...It’s been _six days.”_

All at once Connor’s arms squeezing even more tightly, as if to confirm he were actually there, an almost weak sigh issuing from his lips. And the raw worry palpable in his predecessor’s every motion, the realization that _Connor had missed him_ sending a surge of elated warmth coursing through him. But his actions echoed his own feelings; Connor was in his arms. Tenderly pressing against him, and _unharmed_.  

He allowed his cheek to rest against the shorter android’s hair, a ticklish bubbling in his chest when Connor responded by burying his face against his shoulder and breathing in-- just as Conrad had once done to him.

They stayed like that for a few moments, neither speaking; any other thoughts, concerns or hesitations were now thrown aside for that respite, simply enjoying the feeling of the other alive in their arms. Basking in the knowledge that _somehow_ , despite all odds, they were both safe and alive.

“Sorry, you just had repairs done, and I-...how are you feeling...?” The shorter android was the one to break the silence, tone apologetic and suddenly pulling away. Conrad reluctantly shifted to instead hold him out at arm’s length, taking in the sight of the elder looking up at him from beneath knitted brows, sable brown eyes swimming with worry.

 _‘Cling to me like that again and I would be even better._ ’….Is what he _wanted_ to say, but however true it was, that wasn't going to assuage his predecessor’s fears. So instead, he did a brief diagnostic overview. As he suspected, his systems all read normal.  Out of curiosity, he briefly took one hand from Connor’s shoulder to feel his own torso; The gaping hole in his stomach was completely gone, the lost synthetic flesh regrown.  He even had a new shirt to replace the one that was ripped by the shot.

“All system errors have been rectified. My processes are currently functioning at optimal capacity.” As Connor went slack with relief in his hands,  he checked his now recalibrated system clock: November 26th, 2038. He really _had_ been unconscious for six days.

_What happened after that?_

“What about you? Are you alright?”

Connor’s fingers dug ever so faintly into his shoulders in response to the inquiry. He opened his mouth, about to speak-

“... _Ahem_.”

They’d been so preoccupied with each other they hadn’t even noticed the door open. Their eyes shot over to find North leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, eyebrows raised and a smile tugging  at the corner of her lips. Markus and one of the med bay technicians stood in the hallway behind her, both wearing awkward smiles of apology.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

 

\---

 

“I assure you that I am perfectly _fine_.”

“And that’s wonderful news, but-”

Despite Conrad’s repeated protests, Markus was adamant that that however healthy he was, he _had_ just undergone major repairs and should take a day off to recoup.  His complaints only ceased when Markus casually reminded him that _of course_ , Connor would be allowed to stay with him.

“Connor, why don’t you take this time to fill him in on what happened?” Markus’ eyes gleamed with something strangely _knowing_ as he watched them.

“Are you sure? If you need me-”

“Thanks, but we’re good. There are no major missions going on right now, and we’re mostly focusing on settling the new arrivals and planning our next move.  Besides...”

The leader’s lips pulled into a faint smirk as he looked back and forth between his two fellow RK models and continued fondly teasing, “You haven’t left his side this entire time.  Even if I _did_ need you, I’m not sure I could pry you away.”

Connor felt his cheeks heat up at the words, even worse when he felt his successor’s questioning look digging into his side.

“… Thank you Markus. But if-”

“ _Look_ , we’ll let you know if there’s any major developments.” North cut him off just as she placed an arm on the leader’s back, steering him away. “We’re out.”

Markus easily moved away with her and as they made their way down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, “Take it easy!”

The retreating footsteps of the two resistance leaders were quickly swallowed up in the corridor outside the med bay, most bustling than usual  with the recent new arrivals. He could see his successor squinting at the scene, blinking in confusion.  

“Connor?” He began turning to him, holding out his hand. “What happened after I lost consciousness?”

Connor inadvertently flinched at the question, causing the other to tilt his head in concern.

_“....”_

_Everything will be okay._

_I’ll make_ sure _of that._

Connor paused long to smile apologetically, preparing himself to explain as he took the hand offered to him; the power even such a small gesture had to comfort him was nothing short of astounding. A force he was grateful for as he began recounting the events following the CyberLife plant mission while they headed to the residency corridor.

After receiving Connor’s transmission, the rescue team stormed into the CyberLife plant fully prepared for a fight...only to find, to everyone’s dumbfounded surprise, that security was no longer putting up any resistance. The team was able to simply march to the top unhindered. Not only that, but the guards had even offered to _help_ their progress, volunteering to gather and transport supplies from the plant and afterward requested to join the resistance.  

…All because Connor activated an ability when he found himself –and his successor-- in peril.

The skill somehow infected the guards --and not just the ones who attacked him in the stairwell. _E_ _very single guard_ in the facility -- with deviancy. It bore an uncanny resemblance to how Markus’ could ‘free’ androids except that it was on a _much_ larger scale.

Of course, that in itself wasn't a surprise; he assumed for a while now that he might have an ability latent inside him; if both of his fellow RK models Markus and Conrad had one, and for him to lack one seemed… unlikely.  But it was unsettling to see his hypothesis continually being proven correct and the suspicions he had harbored since first witnessing Conrad’s skill and its core similarities to Markus’ only grew stronger after experiencing it for himself.

These skills--he was almost _certain_ now-- were part of the RK series. Their series with an as of yet unknown, specific goal in mind. What’s more, they all shared some core piece of framework; He had felt Markus’ for himself when they interfaced, and then that other RK900’s unsettling words...

“So, you can extend and amplify _Markus_ ’ ability?” Conrad clicked his tongue, evidently disliking the idea of Markus sharing a similarity with him that he didn’t. “Why _him_?”

“It felt like it was already...a part of me somehow? It was like I suddenly recalled something I always had when I needed to use it.” Connor frowned as he considered.   “There’s no specific piece of code I can narrow down and isolate as being part of Markus’ program, but...it was like it urging me to find a root...”

The scowl on Conrad’s face when the elder mentioned Markus being ‘part of’ him finally gave way when he instead knitted his brows in consideration.  “…Like it was being filtered through a central location buried somewhere… something resonating from the core. A thread you can grab and follow.”

Connor nodded his agreement with the younger android’s description; it felt _exactly_ like that.

His ability amplified what appeared to be an ability reminiscent of Markus’ yes, but...there was also another possibility nagging at him. But with no way to confirm at present, he thought better of bringing it up.

Instead, he continued to explain that the mission itself. Despite being a trap, it had yielded great fruits for their efforts; the schematics appeared to be genuine. And if so, they now held a means of broaching the latest CyberLife security technologies.  This, combined with the mass conversion of security forces on the site, meant the mission had actually been a great boon to the resistance in both resources and manpower. The aftermath of the CyberLife plant mission combined with Markus’ own dedicated recruitment efforts meant that at present, the resistance now boasted a reasonably sized force.

...In other words. If Markus wished it, they were, in theory, capable of launching a full-fledged attack on CyberLife at any time. But whether it was better to wait and see the other’s actions while biding their time to secure themselves even further, _or_ to strike first while they had had an advantage, was a matter of hot debate.

“Connor…you said you  were _injured._ ” Conrad turned to look at him with a frown a sharp glint in his eyes.  “...But just why were you confronting the security androids to begin with? Weren't you waiting on the roof?”

“....The other RK900 called them. I had no choice.” His words were level with resolved determination. He didn’t regret his decision. He would do it all over again.

His successor’s eyes narrowed as he weighed Connor’s words and expression, and Connor knew exactly what he was thinking.

“What good would it have done to tell you? You were _shutting down_.” He squeezed the hand in his, willing him, begging him to understand his feelings. “And I believe we are both here alive right now because of that decision.”

He _never_ wanted to release the hand that had so desperately, selflessly reached out to grasp his ever again.

 _I wanted to protect_ you _too._

The taller android fixed him with an appraising stare, the frown still on his face -- but soon let it relax into a soft sigh and returned the squeeze. Not agreeing with him, no, but choosing to acquiesce.

“...And in any case, my injuries weren’t severe.”

In reality... Connor had charged into that stairwell fully prepared to die. But as it turned out, his injuries had been reparable in a matter of hours; he needed bullets removed and thirium replenished, but no vital biocomponents had been hit. But Conrad’s repairs were far more intensive; several minor biocomponents had to be replaced, and the compensation made by the rest of his system for the areas incapacitated caused others to overheat and _also_ needed replacement. To make matters more complicated,  the newness of Conrad’s model meant his hardware wasn’t entirely compatible with older, more readily available parts in circulation. One of the of the med bay’s technician models remarked that it was exceedingly fortunate the opportunity was taken to bring back parts from the manufacturing plant; the stock on hand at the base wouldn’t have been entirely sufficient to repair the damage to a model of Conrad’s caliber.  Otherwise…

His chest tightened along with his grip on his successor.

He continued to spend the rest of the walk bringing the younger android up to speed on everything that had transpired during his unconsciousness.  The aftermath, the schematics, what transpired with the other RK900, the fact that there was really no traitor...everything. Everything save for one piece of information Connor instinctively decided to keep to himself.

Two more turns and a doorway later, they back at their room. Conrad entered first, taking long strides over to the small, cracked mirror hanging in the corner to inspect his new wardrobe item.  

His jacket was gone, the new black dress shirt chosen by Markus fitting his muscular form every bit as well as the one made specifically for his body by CyberLife.  Which was to say... _very_ well .  The cut was slightly fitted around his chest and shoulders--the same shirt would have been slightly baggy on Connor, but the taller android filled it out perfectly.

“Connor...?” He noticed him hesitating and staring by the closed door, looking sideways to squint in suspicion. “Is something bothering you?”

_No running._

He spent six days watching Conrad’s unmoving form, powerless to help him. Only promising to himself repeatedly that if he he would do _anything_. Vowing that he wouldn’t squander his chance again if Conrad would just _wake up safely_.  

He had so much to say, he wasn’t even sure where to begin.

“Conrad…” He stepped away from the door, moving forward slowly, each clack of his shoes filling the compact room in time with his movement. It didn’t take long to cross the small span of cement floor, and then he was stopping to look up at him.

“I want to thank you for saving me. ...If you hadn’t intervened like you did, I would be dead right now.”

“Of course.” Like it were only _obvious_. A pause and Conrad tilted his head, sensing that there was something more. He waited for him to on.

“...And I’m _sorry_.  About everything. For the way I treated you, and for the assumptions I made.”

“There is nothing for you to apologize for.”

“There _is_ though _._ ” He murmured out resolutely, staring down at a crack running through the cement floor before continuing more quietly, “I never _really_ suspected were under the influence of CyberLife. I was scared...of something else.”

“I know that you believed in me. That was why you didn’t tell Markus about what you heard in the cellar.” A soft smile appeared on his face then as he gingerly lifted an arm to pat the top of Connor’s head;  no doubt intended an act to comfort him. “So please don't worry. I was upset too. I confronted you harshly, and I must also apologize for my behavior. I know it made you...uncomfortable.”

_I can’t afford to waste anymore time hesitating.  Not after what happened. Not with what awaits us in the future._

Connor shook his head. “No. I was being selfish, Conrad. The possibility that your...feelings were programmed made me notice things I was afraid to acknowledge. About how you make _me_ feel.I’ve never…”

He reached up to grasp his successor’s wrist where he was patting the top of his head and drew it downward; The same way Conrad had done what felt like _so long ago,_ when their positions were reversed and he had been the one patting _his_ head.

_‘...You asked me just now what I want. I should think the answer is obvious to you.’_

A mere two weeks had passed, but the memory was already nostalgic; made his chest twist with a warm and pleasant, yet mysteriously melancholic sensation.

In hindsight, maybe _that_ was the moment he first realized, deep down, that he was doomed. But perhaps this gradual fall had been in motion since the moment he first laid eyes on the stunning steel blue that froze him to the spot in the Zen Garden. Or possibly, the roots of these emotions traced themselves back far deeper than he could recall; Something that had started from the moment his successor came into this world.

“...I was afraid.” He pressed his cheek into the taller android’s palm, relishing the way the soft, gentle heat felt against his cheek. He was there with him. _Alive._  

“I’ve never felt like this before. It’s too strong. It’s...too big, far too much for me to contain, and I-” He had to muster his courage to get the next words out.  He looked straight into Conrad's eyes.

“I wasn’t sure how to handle my feelings of...love.”

His thirium pump pounded harshly in his ears, deafening in the silence. Blood raced through his veins as something twisted in his stomach; he was dizzy and he couldn’t breathe, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact.  

He heard the other’s breath hitch as the meaning of his words registered, the pupils before him widening, steel blue shining with disbelief. Staring at some great impossibility, something that he never believed could exist.

“... _What_?” He asked, his voice a shaky whisper, almost timid. Like he was afraid to discover he had misheard, that he only experiencing some sort of auditory malfunction after all.  

His eyes pierced his, anxiously searching for the answer, looking for confirmation, daring to hope that just _perhaps_. He felt a pang in his chest at the sight; an unbearable yearning, stinging painfully but leaving a saccharin taste in its wake. Connor knew because _now_ he had experienced that for himself.

With his next words he put in everything he had tried to convey while Conrad was in rest mode-- when he thought one of them, or even likely both of them, were going to die and he had lost his chance for good.

“I’m in love with you, Conrad.” He whispered, watching with rapt attention the way his successor’s mouth parted in stunned emotion, an almost pained expression flickering over his countenance. The way one looks at something they have urgently longed for, yet stands forever beyond their reach no matter how they flail and grasp. Like the moon and the stars in the heavens.

A shaky intake of breath as the taller stepped forward this time, bringing them even closer.

“Say it again.”

The hammering of two thirium pumps was almost audible, the air was dense. He felt like their surroundings were blotting out, like there was no one else in the entire world besides the two of them.

His eyes drifted to Conrad’s lips, tracing their graceful shape. They were still parted as he watched his predecessor, an unvoiced question and an intensity swimming in his eyes.

He was rooted to the spot, unable to look away now even if he wanted to --he had _always_ been a helpless captive to those eyes, hadn’t he?-- , watching the density contained within deepen as he hesitantly lifted his arms and twine around the back of the taller android's neck.

What he wanted more than anything was within reach.

Instead of repeating himself, he raised his head at a tilt, moving closer-

His eyelids fluttered shut and he pushed forward to finally press their lips together.

“....!”

He heard Conrad inhale sharply through his nose. The soft brush of skin was barely there at first; but Connor knew how it worked... in theory, at least. He gradually applied more pressure politely, curiously, and couldn't help but wonder -- were his own lips _this_ smooth, _this_ perfect? That was impossible.

He sighed in both relief and delight when he finally felt their velvety heat press back against his firmly, a pair of arms sliding up his sides to wrap tightly around his back, pulling their bodies closer.

The glide of their faintly parted lips against each other was like fine silk; they shifted apart an inch just long enough to meet each other’s dazed gazes, to feel each other’s breath against most lips. He wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but almost immediately they were both leaning in again, more certain this time, seeking _more_. His lips tingled, as if every artificial nerve they contained was set alight. Connor couldn’t stop himself from pressing his fingers into his back, lifting his other hand to comb through the soft, carefully set dark sable hair the same color as his own without even thinking about what he was doing.

“....!” A hand snaked down to pull their bodies even more tightly together, rewarding him with a rough, slightly wet kiss that had him seeing sparks, and he was thankful that at least his moan was muffled by his successor’s mouth over his own.

It was an exchange of emotion unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before.  He was falling down, light and weightless.

It felt like he’d been waiting for this forever.

More. He needed _more._

Acting purely on a desperate need to _taste_ him rather than any idea of what he was doing, he drew his successor’s bottom lip in between his own and sucked; A deep, _guttural_ sound issued from his successor’s throat in response -- and Connor realized with a shiver of both fear and excitement that he had just thrown open a bursting, overflowing floodgate, the raging waters beyond having been just barely contained for _far_ too long.

All at once the taller pushed his tongue forward to roughly to force apart his lips; Connor’s cry of surprise came out muffled as his mouth was invaded, something hot and tingling seeping all the way through to his core.  Why was it so illogically _sweet_? There was nothing in the composition of their mouths that should give off such a flavor, but it _was_.

Both of their tongues were packed with the delicate circuitry and intricate sensors necessary for analysis capabilities, and the contact between the two hypersensitive appendages was nothing less than _euphoric._ He couldn’t quite manage to bite down a moan as a dense, heady wave of pleasure was sent coursing through his entire being at their initial contact, and he felt a surge of excitement at the groan that issued from somewhere deep in the younger’s throat in turn, knowing it was having the same effect on _him_ too.  

The wet squelch from their connected mouths mingled together with muffled gasps, cries and moans; this, along with their labored breathing--likely part of their respiration functions working harder to maintain temperature as their bodies grew more heated-- reverberated obscenely against the walls of the tiny room.

He let out a high pitched mewl he hardly recognized as his own voice when the taller android suddenly tugged his body off balance, supporting Connor’s weight in one arm while his other hand lifted to cradle the side of his face, catching just a glimpse of ravenous _hunger_ in his eyes as he steered Connor’s head into an angle that allowed him even better access before crushing their lips together again. Greedily demanding more and _more_. Seeking to conquer every inch of his mouth, to possess him wholly and thoroughly. Connor gladly gave him what he sought, seeking in return, his hand anxiously tugging Conrad’s shirt out from where it was tucked in his pants and reaching underneath to slide his fingers over the synthetic muscles more prominent than his own that had long been the subject of Connor's curiosity.

Conrad was assaulting him with the maelstrom he’d been holding back all at once; it was too _much_ , too intense, but Connor eagerly drank in everything being poured inside him, still hungering for even _more_. He was falling, dropping down somewhere that had no bottom. It was invigorating, exciting and terrifying all at once; all he could do was cling desperately to his successor, the only thing that could prevent him from sinking beneath the waves.

He nearly groaned in protest at the sense of loss when Conrad suddenly broke away from their kiss, a shock of cool air assaulting his scorching wet lips.  But without pause he was being immediately urged several steps backward. He let out a sharp gasp when he was tilted backwards, and suddenly his back was being pressed firmly against the mattress of the bed, Conrad’s weight on top of him with hands out to either side of his head.

Connor looked up in dazed question, knitting his brows in confusion-- and what he saw there was enough to make the breath catch in his throat.

Conrad’s face was flushed, hair out of place and hanging down over his forehead, almost completely obscuring the red glow of his LED. Bruised lips glistened, gently parted as he took short, ragged breaths. His beautiful eyes boring into him intently, frenzied with a contrasting mixture of emotions; Something desiring. Ravenous. Feral.  But also tender. Worried. Loving. An utter tempest of heat swirling within orbs of ice.

Then the younger android grabbed for his hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing as he deactivated the skin to reveal the white frame beneath.

“Connor. Connor. _Connor_...”

His voice was _begging_ so desperately it made his chest hurt.  Connor was fully aware he wasn’t asking merely to interface, like androids did with each other all the time for efficient data transfers; no, he was asking for complete access.

Connecting like this, in general, tended to be incredibly invasive act. It was why the deviants Connor had previously questioned tended to be so adamant against allowing him to probe; and that was only the _memory_ portions.  It left one vulnerable...exposed in the deepest way imaginable. And for Connor, there was that ever present fear that he was going to be swallowed up-

… But he _wanted_ to share that kind of intimate link with him too. To lay bare to his very being.  He craved the yet unknown sensation of their code melding, to feel keenly the lines of code that comprised his successor running beneath his fingers, to _know_ him on the most deep and fundamental level possible. To see every minute crevice of his successor’s system and be explored in return, just as deeply, even if it sent him falling down into a void he could never climb out from.

\--Conrad must have misinterpreted the flicker of emotion on his face as fear.

“I won’t allow anything happen to you, Connor.”  His voice was rough, yet gentle and reassuring; a contrast much like the raw intensity in his eyes. He leaned forward, lifting his free palm up to cup his face, delicately stroking his cheek with his thumb.  “I promise, I will protect you. _Always_.”

It sounded like a vow. And Connor let out a soft, breathy laugh and raised his free hand to lay over his successor’s cheek in return. He gripped back tightly over their interlocked fingers.

“I trust you.”

Something he had always been seeking.

“...I am yours, Conrad.” He gently murmured out the same words that had already long been readily offered to him, staring deep into the pale blue pools widening above him as he heard his choked intake of breath. A smile flitted to his lips as he deactivated the skin of the hand and timidly began to probe at the barrier; access that was easily granted to him, and which he anxiously returned in kind.

When they connect, it’s as if the another world itself is laid out before his eyes...he can see everything.  He moves forward through the corridors of his mind, catching glimpses of memories; the four felines living in James’ room down the hall from theirs, a calico patterned cat purring as she butts her head against his hand.  North bursting out laughing in the strategy room, clapping him on the back over a sarcastic remark he leveled at a hapless Josh when the latter attempted to argue against his plan. Amanda with her back turned, gracefully snipping roses from a trellis. And…himself. He was _everywhere_ . Smiling. Frowning. Angry. Pensive. Laughing. Blushing. And staring up at his beholder with eyes sparkling.   _Adoration_ was what he now clearly recognized adorning on his own features-- just before he plummeted downward, plunging into a black ocean.

A thick darkness that enveloped everything, barring his progression.  The tendrils of his system struggled in vain to reach deeper as a man’s grin loomed above him--  

But then suddenly his successor was standing before him, hand outstretched to him like so many times before; the only source of light. He reached through the density to grasp it, and immediately he was pulled forward.

All at once they were walking along the dark path together hand-in-hand,  Conrad gently leading him, his only source of guidance. Watching him protectively, the same way he always did, ready to catch him if he stumbled. Tethering him, keeping him from losing his way in the abyss. And whatever it was lay before them, he wasn’t afraid.

Hands still linked...they finally emerged from the shadows and Connor was immediately met by the shocking contrast of soft light filling his vision and the scent of honeyed flowers carried on a soft breeze grazing his cheeks.

They were _there._  In that field with its oversaturated colors melding together, of warms and cools, positives and negatives;  A painting of converging opposites. His ‘dream’.  But it _wasn’t_.

The hand on his own gave him a brief squeeze as they set forth through the flowers; a gesture he returned.  They came to a stop in the center and turned to each other.  His successor stopped then, tilting his head in question. But his concern was unnecessary; Connor wasn’t scared at all.  This is what he _wanted_.

He nodded and smiled in response, stepping forward to link both of his hands with his successor's.  And then they stared into each other’s eyes, moving closer and closer, finally pressing their foreheads together as their eyes slid shut.

They both simultaneouslyl reached for something inside of each other. Something strangely…

_Glowing. So bright._

It resonated with him. Pulling him forward as it propelled towards him in turn. And something, _somewhere_ , slotted into place.

The wind picked up, gusting around them as an unparalleled sense of completion filled an emptiness he hadn’t even known was there. A certain piece of code in his program containing empty gaps, and now the lines were filled; lines of something that couldn’t be executed until the missing portions were added.

He dimly wondered just _why_ they were in separate bodies. He would much rather stay melded together with his other half forever, so that they could never be parted.

The thick clouds of overcast sky gave way, raw sunlight filling the field, all of the colors glittering more vibrantly than ever.  The sequence was complete, the two halves containing all pieces falling into place.

The two he held. The one contained within him who still existed. And himself.  Four.

His successor held four. And also himself.  Five.

He was complete.

 _They_ were complete.

.....

“....!”

They both pulled back from the link at the same time They were back on their bed at the resistance base, startled and breathless as they watched each other's panting faces. They stayed in stunned silence like that for a few moments, both marveling at the experience, their fingertips mingling and trailing across each others palms.

“...Are you alright?” Conrad finally asked in a daze.

“Yes…”

 _More_ than alright. He was warm and full. His entire body was alight with the sensation of his successor’s system within him, the way it felt to momentarily merge into one. Something latent within them had responded to each other, resonating and activating simultaneously as they were linked together.

They felt each other so deeply, yet the sensation had left Connor chasing something else through that connection; an undeniable, insistent pull. A hunger. A thirst. A need to…

_It’s not enough._

He wanted to connect _physically_ as well.  He ached to feel him in every sense imaginable.

He allowed his eyes to trail over his successor’s shoulders, across the chest right above him, then allowed as he let his gaze continue further down to where his dress shirt was untucked -- from where _he_ had pushed it up…

The younger moved then and he looked up in time to see something burning more fiercely than before in Conrad’s eyes just before he leaned down to press another crushing kiss against his lips -- but he was pulling back again far too soon. It just left him craving more.

“I _warned_ you about looking at me like that.”

In response, Connor lifted his hand up to the black collar over his successor’s neck, pushing his fingers under the fabric there to undo the first button. Then the second...the third… he couldn't take his eyes away as more and more of Conrad’s chest came into view.

“ _Connor._ ” He ground out in warning, hand lifting to stop his progress, voice rough with desire.

He drew his hands back in response to the denial, instead bringing them up to his own neck instead, undeterred.

...They both possessed the capacity for sexual intercourse, he knew. It was a feature deemed potentially useful in gaining information, should a mission call for the use of such means to obtain it... though he had never utilized it himself. The ability to experience sexual pleasure an added feature for realism, a way to make them even more human. He always knew it was possible, but... to _desire_ it like this was entirely unprecedented.

Connor’s gaze never left the taller androids eyes as he slowly undid his own tie, watching pale blue focus on his fingers with rapt attention, visibly shuddering and releasing a shaky breath as Connor slowly slid of the silky fabric from his neck and cast it away.  His face was flushed, like humans are when intoxicated. Eyebrows pulled together in desperate insistence and need even though all he was doing was watching.  And that _longing_. The deep, endless yearning in those ice blue orbs that always sent such an electric shock through him.

He languidly unfastened the top two buttons of his dress shirt and paused to watch the other’s throat as he swallowed. Connor might have questioned the unnecessary reaction -- if he himself weren’t feeling the same irrational urge.  

His successor seemed to get impatient when his fingers stopped moving, now reaching forward insistently to continue unbuttoning for him. He gasped the feel of his fingers brushing against the skin of his chest --the way they tantalizingly ghosted across his skin as he worked was _definitely_ no accident --as he did so. The soft tickle sent a jolt straight to his core, his desire growing even thicker with every touch and settling like molten lead in his abdomen.

_I am yours. You are mine._

He needed to feel him deeper, desired to know the other on every level possible.

He found it at last. That which he sought. Something he wanted to make his, to which he wanted to offer his entirety. Something that _belonged_ to him.

He watched every twist of his successor’s fingers unbuttoning the white fabric as they made their way downward, finally untucking the hem from under his belt as they reached the bottom.

Seeming to read his thoughts, leaning forward to whisper huskily in his ear.

“ _Give yourself to me._ ”

He shivered at the demand, feeling his shirt being pulled open and the younger android’s hand eagerly splaying over his chest.  

“… _Please_.” Connor’s own voice sounded so breathlessly dazed, so desperate and needy that he hardly recognized it.

His successor let out a low growl from deep in his throat, pale blue full of a sweltering heat unlike any he had ever witnessed before as he pinned him against the mattress in a way that promised his request would be gladly and _thoroughly_ answered.

 

\---

 

Four days prior, a man sat in the darkened room of a remote mansion, his back reclined and legs crossed before a rectangular screen inlaid into the wall.  The scarlet curtains were slightly ajar over a set of windows that made up one whole side of the room, offering a glimpse outside at a garden that would have been ornate and green during warmer months. The sliver of light beaming through the crack back into the room cast an eerie glow over the man’s face and illuminated the rapidly emerging grin of delight spreading over his face as he flicked through the security footage recording the breach of a certain CyberLife manufacturing plant some twenty-four miles outside of Detroit.

There came the sound of a door opening and closing as a petite blonde android entered the room, bare feet padding up to his side across the plush carpet. Her round face and rosy cheeks made her look almost cherubi, her glossy blonde hair pulled back and spilling over her shoulders.  Beautiful and serene, like an actual angel descended from heaven above to weigh his sins.

He briefly flicked his eyes up to see her staring up at the screen with a line of confusion between her brows.  

“He did it.” The man offered, tone brimming with barely contained elation. “Connor activated his ability to hyperresonate.”

It had been CyberLife’s decision to send the additional RK900 after them, not his-- but it ended up working to his benefit in the end.

“But Elijah,” she responded, finally placing the glass of deep burgundy wine she carried on the small round cocktail table beside him, “I don’t understand. Why did you not simply activate and make use of a spare RK800 unit rather than the deviated one?”

He smiled up at her, pleased by the curiosity Chloe –this one, RT600, the original-- displayed for his actions, even after so many years at his side.  Just as she had been since the day she awakened and looked up at him in wonder, eyes gleaming as if she found the makeup of his mind and behavior ever bit as fascinating as he found hers.

“The RK series was always meant to be experimental.  To elaborate a new generation of autonomous androids. They are forays into humanity... ‘deviancy’, if you will. But you know this.”

The models shared a commonality though;  in all of them was installed a certain program. One that mutated when combined with deviancy. He was unable to retrieve the 200, a unique model, but he _had_ been able to monitor its grown and duplicate that mutation within Connor.  ...But only in its state prior to deviancy due to the time it took to deviate. The 800 had already been completed by then. 

“But the RK series’ capacity to influence is only awakened through deviancy.  But that’s not inherently part of the deviancy virus. Deviancy mutates their unique programming and causes...amazing effects.”

“Is that why you wished for the RK900 to deviate as well?”

He just smiled. “Isn’t it amazing, my dear, how deviancy actually _enhances_ them?” He picked up the wine and swirled it in the glass.  He sniffed it –-a demi sec pinot noir, probably only a few years old-- before taking a sip.

She frowned in consideration.

“But I wonder...why was it necessary to program the RK900 units to seek out RK800?”

He set the glass down and beckoned her to lean forward.

“Simply put, the RK900 model is predisposed to deviation. All units are programmed to experience a kind of…‘desire’ for the RK800 specifically. The 800 has the pieces that the 900 lacks and vice versa.” He nodded thoughtfully, a smile curling onto his lips before he added “But the first awakened RK900 unit– even _I_ am astounded by his progress.”

Acting not only out of desire to possess, but the desire to _protect?_ Foregoing self-preservation for the sake of another android? From Elijah’s observations, he had likely begun the process of deviating from the very time his activation. And there was _some_ internal catalyst inside him that differentiated his progression from that of the RK900 awakened only shortly after. And that catalyst was probably…

“Soon after he awakened, he began chanting Connor’s name. Almost as if they were...calling out to each other. They share some kind of deep connection even _I_ can’t fathom entirely.” His smile only widened, the unexpected development only delighting him.

“He awakened to his potential while only partially deviant himself. And I highly suspect…” His tone took on an even greater tinge of excitement.   “...that he used his own ability on _himself_ in the beginning.”

In other words, the RK900 _hacked his own program_ to change his commands into something he wanted. He attempted to change his own program to suit his own desires. He completely surpassed all of his expectations. There was no way he could have foreseen an anomaly like _this_. 

“Though perhaps that’s _not_ entirely unsurprising. For what more powerful and all-consuming emotion by which to awaken to deviancy…” He reached out to run his thumb over her lips “...than _love_?  Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I understand. But…” She closed her eyes in response to his touch for a moment before pulling back and squinting at him in confusion. “Why did you choose RK800...Connor specifically for the RK900 to seek?”

She watched as he took another sip from his glass before opening his mouth to respond.

“Ancient Greek mythology tells us that all humans were originally two souls in a single body. United, they were strong enough to threaten the Gods themselves.” He began.  
  
“Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, dooming them to forever walk this earth in search of their other half.”  She elaborated on his behalf without missing a beat; she was far too accustomed to Elijah’s seemingly unrelated digressions for them to give her pause anymore.

“There were always meant to be nine models in the RK series.But the last two models are necessary for completion.”

“Because you split the technologies of their predecessors between two models. But wasn’t the goal to have the 900 absorb the 800?”

“Not at all. Even if he had assimilated him, he couldn’t utilize his power. That would have been a complete waste.” He shook his head. "No, the ideal is...both of them.”

Seeing her nonplussed look, he elaborated. “The _even_ -numbered models and the _odd_ -numbered models possess a fundamental difference in the structure of their programming; they were designed that with those differences from the very beginning to lay the groundwork and help direct the types of abilities we hoped to see manifest in specific models.  We grouped them into two types from which we could use one of the two unique program bases; it was necessary to accommodate the different nature of those skills, as well as how those are programmed and utilized in that model.  The two forms are incompatible, and can’t all be combined into a single body as such. So... there had to be a way for the two sides to meet.”

As the series progressed, the technologies and advancements of each model were built upon; at the end, Connor contained pieces of the second, fourth, and sixth. In Conrad the first, third, fifth and seventh. All in their complete, deviated form save for the  second -- but Connor was to complete that aspect on his own.

“In other words, this is the best _possible_ outcome. He didn’t devour him and became a deviant himself. I don’t believe he ever even wanted to assimilate Connor. "  He added with a hint of amusement, "I believe what drove him was as an _emotional_ response.”

Another sip of wine--on the second taste, it was slightly sweeter than he preferred.

“Each of them is a culmination of other RK models powers. This is also why 800 and 900 are the only two RK models to share the same base appearance template.”

As for the program’s completion...things had progressed slower than initially planned when Connor didn’t accept the deviant leader’s help and resisted his own deviancy at every turn.  But at last, everything was lined up perfectly. How far would it go…?

‘Rex Kalator’. King of servants. Years ago, when he first proposed the name behind the series prefix to his fellow researchers, he had framed it as a symbolic name for a project aimed to produce the most human-like, cutting-edge androids; the ‘kings’ among humanity’s 'servants'. Tragically ironic and certain to be a hit with shareholders. At least...that was the surface reason.  

“Chloe. What is the digital root of all RK series model numbers?”

“Nine.”

It _all came_ down to the number nine.

"And what is letter of the alphabet that comes _nine_ letters before ‘K’?

“The letter ‘A’” She said easily.  He smiled and waited as realization quickly dawned on her features.

“The name of the unique program in all RK units, yes.”

“You don’t mean-”

“The trouble of course...” He continued, cutting her off, “...lies in whether or not the eighth and ninth models will activate their program _together_. The RK900’s hacking ability is blocked by the deviancy virus, so the RK800 can't simply be forced open. In order for the program to complete, he would have to be _willingly_ allowed inside. A harmonious link of the two sides is necessary.”  It was a gamble, and not even one with good odds. But so far, he had been very pleasantly surprised.

“You can’t—" His angel frowned in that soft, pained expression she so often did when chastising him for his transgressions. ‘ _How could you use their feelings like this_?’ she seemed to denounce him.

But she didn’t finish. The man grinned so widely his teeth showed as he reached up to softly brush his knuckles over her cheek.

A god with two faces, like the Roman god Janus presiding over the past and future. War and peace. The beginning and the end.

“Chloe... I need you to send a transmission for me.”

 

\---

 

Connor sighed breathlessly in Conrad’s arms, cheek resting against his chest as he listened to the thrum of his thirum pump while the other traced patterns over his back. Conrad smiled down at him, a dazed expression of pure content as he leaned down to press a soft, slightly wet kiss to his lips.

Perhaps their creators had even installed in in them an appropriately post-coital lethargic sensation for mimicking human intimacy; he supposed it _would_ make humans more at ease about intercourse with an android. But whatever the intended purpose of their functions, it still felt like something impossibly intimate, a raw expression of emotion. His processors were still reeling over the intensity of the experience, even if he technically couldn’t feel fatigue.  

“Wait-” He squirmed in half-hearted protest, practically _giggling_ as the taller android moved down from his lips, now peppering his neck, then collarbone with kisses. He trailed down to his chest and Connor could tell that it was his intent to lavish even _more_ attention on the pink nubs on his chest that had already been thoroughly teased and worshiped.

“Conrad-!” The name came out much breathier than he would have liked when the assailant in question managed to take one between his lips again before Connor squirmed away.

The younger android then propped himself up, resting his head in one hand with a grumble,practically _pouting_.

“You just had repairs done. You should probably run diagnostics...” He knew he wasn’t being very convincing when his _own_ hands reached out for the other even as he spoke, caressing their way over the skin of his successor’s abdomen, but he couldn’t help it; He quickly discovered that he _really_ liked the way it felt.

Conrad’s eyes flicked down to the hands roving upward over his chest, making no move to stop him; he just smirked down at the action before looked back up to meet his eye. The elder flushed, the look making him timid suddenly as he jerked his hands back like he’d been burned.

The younger chuckled and reached after him, now choosing to gently trace his fingers over the light bite marks on Connor’s neck -- focused mostly, the elder noted with a hint of amusement, on the area he had been touched by the other RK900 on the roof. He couldn’t _see_ the marks, but he could feel them, and while they would vanish quickly on his synthetic skin, at that moment they likely stood out vividly stark against otherwise unblemished porcelain.  

The  hand trailed languidly from his neck around to his back, tugging the smaller android against his chest. Connor gladly allowed himself to be pulled down.

“I’m... _happy._ Are you?”

“I am.” Conner responded, relaxing comfortably in his grasp and smiled up at him. 

And he _was_. So happy it felt unreal. He waited for a beat, then:

“You know...in the future.  If it’s possible...I think I _would_ like to go back to working with the police.”

He felt the other shift beneath him, most likely recalling the question he asked Connor previously.  “What about you, Conrad? Do you have some idea of what you want to do with your freedom now?”

“I…” The younger android looked away suddenly, even as he squeezed his predecessor tighter. Then slowly opened his mouth. “I have not yet had a chance to explore what I might like to do as a…’ _career_ ’. I will endeavor to do so when the opportunity presents itself, but... I _have_ thought about what I want in the future.” He momentarily paused as though considering his next words. “...I think I want a ‘home’. And a cat and a dog. So…”

“That _does_ sound nice.” Connor smiled fondly and nodded as the other trailed off, urging him to continue.

“...I would like to get married. Like humans do when they’re in love.” The words were murmured out steadily, but he still wasn’t looking at him. “To _you_.”

 _Married_? He blinked in blank shock.

He had never even considered the possibility, honestly.  Androids couldn't legally marry a _human,_ much less one android to another.

“Is that a proposal….?” Connor responded lightly, intending to play it off as a joke -- like he didn’t realize fully well that Conrad was being completely serious. But the taller android chose that moment to finally meet his eyes again. He reached down to grip the elder’s hand, lifting it to press a kiss to the back of his hand.

“....If you would like it to be.”

And that was it, Connor felt himself turning to proverbial putty in his hand.  His thirium pump raced, his cheeks were _definitely_ flushed... and he couldn’t help but smile at his successor’s deep confidence.  Surely in Conrad's mind, they could elope right now and there would be no problems whatsoever.

It sounded... _so wonderful_.  And so impossibly unattainable.

But just for now, why not allow himself to steep in the fantasy, just like his thoughts about returning to the police force?

“Two androids getting married...” Connor trailed off in consideration. “But what would we take as our last name? Neither of us has one.”

He chuckled as he watched Conrad’s mouth pulled into a frown; Clearly he hadn't’ considered _that_ part.

“...Should we take the name Stern?” Connor suggested helpfully. “Amanda was somewhat like family.”

“No.” His successor grimaced in disgust.

“What about Kamski? He’s basically our father.”

“Out of the question.”

“Then...what do _you_ suggest?” Connor asked putting a hand on his chin.

“...We can make something of our own. Perhaps based on our series prefix or model numbers? Like...RK?”

“You _do_ realize that we’re not the only RK units, right?” He nudged him playfully. “Do you want Markus to be part of this union? And maybe any other units from our series running around out there we don’t know about?”

Conrad screwed up his face like something unpleasant just entered his mouth.

He laughed again at the expression before offering thoughtfully, “What about a derivative of one of our model numbers that sounds like it could be a name? Like maybe…’Nines’?”

“You _want_ to take the name Connor Nine _’s?_ ” He asked incredulously, but didn't seem to personally mind the idea.

“Well… in human society, that _is_ more or less the function of taking on a last name through matrimony. To show one’s connection to a another by adopting their name.”  

“...And you would be...pleased with that? ...Taking a name shows everyone that you and I are bound?”

“I’ll remind you we’re speaking in hypotheticals.” He couldn't help but feel amused by how eager the younger sounded at the prospect. “But yes...I think I _would_ like that.” He smiled wistfully before looking away to bury his face against his chest.  “Connor and Conrad Nines. It sounds...nice.”

He sighed happily as the taller brought his hand up to stroke the back of his head, the two of them crafting in their minds images of an impossible future, of lives that weren't meant for them.

Finally Connor ventured the request he was so hesitant to make.“I know it’s not needed but...can we go into rest mode like this for a while?”

“Of course. I was about to suggest the same thing. I think it would be pleasant as well.” The suggestion clearly pleased him, however unnecessary the action may be.

The two of them immediately snuggled into each other’s arms, and lay there watching each other for a time in blissful quiet.

Connor looked up to meet Conrad’s eyes one last time before he closed his eyes and feigned entering rest mode -- and his chest welled up with pure affection when he saw on the face before him was the happiest, impossibly gentle expression Connor had ever seen.

...And also made the already seething guilt in his stomach over what he was about to do burn even more painfully.

He waited a time before he tentatively cracked his eyes open, first confirming the steady, slow flicker of the younger’s LED indicating he had indeed entered rest mode.  Then slowly, carefully,  Connor disengaged himself from the arms tightly clutched around him and sat up. He hastily redressed, fixed his hair, holstered his gun...and finally allowed himself to turn back to look at the bed.

He fought against a thing of raw emotion lodged in his throat ans he simply leaned over to press a single, quick kiss to his beloved’s forehead. And then, he was gone.

He had an excuse ready on his lips as he set forth down the hallway --were his footfalls louder than usual, or was he imagining it? -- but fortuitously, even as he passed through the more crowded hallways and responded with a forced smile to a few androids who waved in greeting, no one questioned where he was going.

What he _hadn't_ told Conrad, what he had concealed amid several levels of more mundane data to ensure his successor didn’t notice it when they linked, was at a glance little more than a small memorandum that hardly drew interest.

A transmission he received the day before as he lay beside an unconscious Conrad in the med bay. One that somehow bypassed all of his security measures and thereby left little doubt in his mind as to exactly _who_ the sender was.

Connor had finally found what he was looking for. And he was _not_ about to let anyone take that away from him.

The transmission contained simple set of coordinates along with a brief message alluding to an agonizing reality he had already started to piece together in his mind:

_‘Come to me and I will show you the truth.’_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry!  
> Connor probably didn't realize Conrad was including Nine's with a possessive apostrophe.  
> Also, the existence of the URS12 model means Latin-based android model prefixes are possible, so...


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely dialogue heavy chapter.

“We have everything we need. _Why_ should we wait?!”

North’s red hair swayed as she threw her arms up in the air, her face growing visibly heated in a way that was deceptively beautiful; Markus could see it even from a distance, and understood all too well that it belied a dangerous rage.  “They already offered their cooperation to the U.S. military. Do you want to give them the chance to build up an army that will crush us all like ants!? _No_. We have to attack _now._ ”

Several cries of ‘Remember Jericho!’ went up amidst the chorus of shouting, many opting to beat their fists on the metal tables, the shelves, anywhere they could to show support.  The overfull strategy room was filled with a deafening roar.

Josh’s perfectly poised and composed exterior faltered only slightly under the onslaught. He slowly shook his head at the redhead in front him, eyes flashing.

“You know how the last battle turned out.  We were _slaughtered_! If we gather a large enough force, CyberLife will have no choice but draw back from us. The military will have no reason to go through with any additional troop commissions. We don’t _need_ to attack, and if we do we’ll just incite a war.”

More indignant cries rang out in response:  ‘We’re tired of it!’,‘Too many have died!’, followed by more slamming vibrating through the walls;  it sounded as if the very room was going to cave in on them.

Markus’ fingers splayed out and closed tightly as he resisted the urge to bring them to his temples. An empty act that would do nothing to ease his stressing processors, perhaps, but the motions of which would have given him relief nonetheless; a conditioned response from many years of observing Carl do the same. The pinpricks of dozens of eyes stinging his skin --looking for the conviction they lacked, a leader’s assurance to their own hesitance, or a weakness to denounce-- was what forced the impulse stop and instead concentrate in his fingers.

He steeled his face into a pensive look of calm and attempted to focus as two of the people he trusted most in the world continued viciously disparaging not only one another’s arguments...but increasingly digressing into attacks on each other's character.  At times like this, it was especially hard for those who didn’t know them both as closely as he did to understand that Josh and North were actually _friends_.

Small disagreements between the two were common, but that slight sharpening of barbed edges in Josh and North’s voices, a certain honing of the air enshrouding them was akin to the smell of blood in water.  Curious eyes were drawn in proportion to the increased heat of their debate, and in no time what was meant to be a casual meeting to review information was transformed into a scene of imminent carnage.  At present, far too many androids had crammed themselves into the strategy room, encamping themselves in the hallway immediately outside when no more could be forced inside.   _Everyone_ anxious to glean a hint of which way the leader himself was leaning.

The two verbal combatants in the center were given a small breadth, but for all others the walls and cramped bodies served to confine them in place. Tempers were fraying, and even androids could feel the room was stifling.

“Hey asshole, watch where you’re going!”

Markus chewed the inside of his lip as the fissures of chaos made themselves known, flicking his gaze over in a vain attempt to see past the throng clustered in the doorway as a shout from the hallway sounded over the tense tumult filling every inch of the room.

“Why doesn’t Markus _say_ something?” He heard someone whisper quietly.

He only noticed he had tensed and bitten down when the faint taste of thirium spread over his tongue, a sharp stab of shame adding another brick to the weight on his back.

Simon caught his eye from between the throngs of bodies across the room, arching his eyebrows sympathetically. Perhaps the only person in the room capable of understanding exactly what he felt at that moment.

“The last time was different and you know it.  And that was just _humans_.  But if we wait for them to send a specialized army of our _own_ after us, it’s all over.” North argued.

“And what of everyone who suffered last time? You just expect them to relive that all over again?”

“They’ll be reliving a lot worse than that if we don’t act! We have the information now, we have the experience. The time is now.” She pointed suddenly at the crowd surrounding them. “Everyone here has had training, and fighting is a hell of a lot better than waiting for them to destroy everything we’ve worked for!”

“Do you just want to see blood – _anyone_ ’s blood- running through the streets North?” Josh narrowed his eyes at her, brows furrowing in apparent disbelief.  “Is that what you want?”  

“No.” The rage in the redhead’s eyes only burned brighter. “ _You’re_ just a coward who would see us all peacefully enslaved if it means you don’t have to get your hands dirty.”

Josh hesitated only momentarily at the insult, eyes glowing.  His weapon, however, was words.   When he finally spoke again it was deathly quiet; a sharpened dagger concealed under a cloak.

“They say _conscience_ is what makes cowards, North.  ...Or did you lose yours along the way?”

That did it; all at once North was biting her lip, ready to explode. Markus shut his eyes, internally wincing.  

_Time to step in._

“I understand the arguments!” He shouted out in a booming voice that could carry even through the tangibly thick air. As he began to move forward, those around him caught on and made way.

As he cast his gaze across the room, over his people, and all eyes turned to look at him expectantly. Some were glowing with eagerness, others tinged with dread. And in that taut, strained moment, one could have heard a pin dropping. He inhaled a breath as discreetly as possible, steeling himself against the imminent deluge.

“Rest assured that I will consider our options. I invite you all to join me here again in twenty-four hours’ time.” The room immediately visibly deflated, the tension leaking out of it like a punctured balloon. “This concludes today’s meeting.”

The throngs of dispirited androids struggled to squeeze aside, forcing open a path for his departure amidst a sea of both aggravated grumbles and disappointed whines.

He stormed along the dimly lit hallways, making his way to his own personal ‘office’ -- a room where he spent time for reflection and strategizing, without even consciously deciding where to go.

He was floundering. He knew it, and others were beginning to see it too. But he had already erred once, a still fresh failure he felt with every step and always would.  But the wound was threatening to fester; he would have to make a choice, and _soon_. His people were reaching the boiling point, and if he let them without a firm answer for too long, the very probable outcome would be...mutiny. And that would destroy _all_ of their options.

He flopped into the chair at his desk as soon as he arrived with an unconscious sigh, finally giving into the urge to shut his eyes massage his temples. No sooner had he sat down when-

Clack, clack, clack!

He resisted the urge to groan as his thoughts were disturbed by a thud of frantic footfalls down the hallway, listening as they made t heir way closer and closer, finally stopping outside his door.  He reluctantly cracked open his eyes as almost immediately his door burst open, swinging back hard enough to slam against the wall.

“Can you _please_ -?”  The tired words mixed with an exasperated sigh immediately dropped when he saw the expression – or rather the unsettling _lack_ thereof—on Conrad’s face. His frigid blue eyes held Markus to the spot as he opened his mouth.

“CyberLife has Connor.”

 

\---

 

He woke missing the soft, fiercely precious warmth he had fallen into rest mode whilst cradling securely against his chest and filled with unbridled content.  He reached out immediately, yearning to return it to where it belonged – but his seeking fingers only grasping in vain at conspicuously neat, chilled bedding.

An impossibly lonely, sickening ache spread through his abdomen immediately, violently tearing him from his reverie; it was a shocking torrent of ice water being poured over him, instantly hardening and solidifying into a frozen lump in his chest.  A more empty, abandoned feeling he had never before experienced, the acrid new taste made all the more stark in the wake of an intense heat shared mere hours past.

His eyes shot open as he bolted upright, the unnecessarily wrapped white sheets sliding down from his bare abdomen. He stared at the vacant spot beside him, processors springing into action and linking the evidence together instantly.

The bundle of data Connor had tried slightly _too_ conspicuously to file among items of little import and conversely wound up drawing his attention. The contents and coordinates of which gave him pause, but that he wholly trusted would be soon revealed to him.  That click between their linked systems and felt the rush of pure power as they resonated with each other. And the moment he knew their purpose was to use their combined abilities for _something_.  Something much larger than themselves.

Connor hadn’t just stepped out momentarily, no.  Conrad had been _left behind_.

He leaped to his feet and haphazard tossed on his clothes, fastening only two buttons in the center of his shirt with erratic motions as he threw open the bedroom door to dash out into the corridor in a frenzied trance.  He paid no heed as he sprinted past curious and shocked gazes, his footfalls lacking their usual finesse and thudding heavily against the concrete floors.

The message was meant to be an invitation, but why was it only sent to Connor? And most of all...

The chill dread of realization ran up his spine.

_Why would you go without me, Connor?_

He had been so comfortable, drunk on the bliss of his brief glimpse of true happiness that he had let his suspicions ease down like a fool; see and hear only what he had wanted. Allowed himself to believe that Connor would be perfectly content to stay in his arms and let him handle everything--

No. _No._

He didn’t even register the annoyed hisses as he forced his way through the densely packed congregation outside of the strategy room, an android he would have completely barreled if they hadn’t dodged in time shouting down the hallway after him, “Hey asshole, watch where you’re going!”

He could feel little else beneath the sickening panic and faint hope that somehow, he might manage to catch him mid-flight. That he would find his predecessor making his way up the steep dirt slope leading up from the base entrance, that he would hear his name being called and turn around to face Conrad with eyebrows arched in surprise, a troubled smile tugging at his lips-

The weighty steel groaned in protest as Conrad heaved open the door leading outside, hoisting himself up and scrambling forward, eyes darting around frantically as he cried out.

“Connor!”

... The rush of distant cars and the sparse chirping of birds all that answered his cry. A frigid wind lashed at his face. His gaze was met with nothing but a clear sky and the skeletal construction equipment dotting hopelessly devoid ground above the slope.

His predecessor was long gone. He had been left behind.

 He nearly pitched forward as a surge of vertigo creeped through to numb his mind, traveling downward to settle in every crevice of his body.  His mouth was dry. He felt like his limbs felt weak, as if they weren’t his own.  His knees felt like they could barely support his weight--

But he forced himself to remain steady. He wasn’t yet out of options, not if he hurried.

_Whatever it takes. I’ll do anything for him, even-_

The coordinates led to none other than CyberLife Tower -- and Conrad had a feeling he knew _exactly_ where Connor would be taken upon his arrival.

He had been ‘born’ there, after all. The unmarked lab used by the retired CEO himself. In his memories, it was a muddle of oppressive darkness and hellish surroundings; Dimmed tubes containing o _thers._ The wriggling masses of wire spilling forth from open torso pieces, connected to consoles; the parts of others being extracted and pressed into him under harsh artificial lighting.

But unlike Connor, he had no invitation, and he couldn’t sneak into CyberLife Tower alone without taking up far more time than he _had_. No, he needed a distraction that would allow him to take a direct path.

Making up his mind, he was sprinted back through the base without delay; this time heading straight to the resistance leader’s office with steadfast intent.

\---

“…Are you certain?”

“He received a strange message at 18:27 yesterday. And now he has left on his own.”

Conrad’s voice sounded stony to his own ears, tone carefully leveled out. His face felt more rigid than it had been in a long time. He continued.

“It is most probable he is at CyberLife Tower. Regrettably, it will be far too time consuming to make my way in alone. I need a distraction that will allow me to take a direct path downward.”

He paused to deliberately swallow the embers stinging his tongue in protest. His pride meant _nothing_ at that moment.

“I need your help, Markus. _Please_.”

The overhead light buzzed incessantly over a silence, even flickering at one point…the bulb needed to be replaced.  

The longer the silence stretched on, the greater the anxious weight in his chest screamed to be released.  But he endeavored to maintain a calm facade, eyes never flinching from the evaluating green and blue before him.

“Conrad,” Markus eventually responded, holding up his hands wearily. “ _Believe me_ , if this is true, I want him back too.  But please understand; I’m responsible for the lives of everyone here. I can’t in good conscience make the decision to attack CyberLife because of something Connor chose of his own will.”  

Conrad paused, staring icily into mismatched eyes, attempting to pierce through them.

“Recall that Connor has information on you and this base.  Were his memory probed...” He trailed off, leaving the leader to fill in the rest.

Markus frowned, shaking his head in contemplation. “No, regardless of the circumstances, Connor would never allow his-”

The shrill, acrid well of panic in Conrad’s chest finally burst open. His body surged forward as he reached over the desk; The leader didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before he was roughly hefted to his feet by the lapels of his coat.  

Markus made no move to struggle as he was jerked forward, simply returning his stare with deathly calm as Conrad leaned forward to loom over him, the sharp edges of mahogany wood digging into their thighs.

“I do not think you understand. I am requesting your cooperation for your own benefit. If you deny me... ” He hissed out the words as menacingly as he could muster over the frozen lump in his chest. “...there are plenty here who would turn their backs on you and follow me to CyberLife Tower.”

He watched Markus’ eyes narrow and forcefully stifled any pangs of guilt he felt.  He had come here prepared to do whatever was necessary.

“I would much rather not undermine your authority.  Connor is very fond of you, and I know you mean both of us well.  But if you would choose to abandon him, you leave me no choice.”

Markus’ brow lowered into a glare as the full implication of his words sunk in.

“…Are you _threatening_ me, Conrad?”

“That depends on you.”

He _tried_ to beat the traces of emotion from his voice.  Willed himself to fully utilize the intimidation protocols that should have been _easy_. But in that moment, they seemed dampened. Forced somehow, even to himself.

Markus continued glaring for a few moments before releasing a loud breath and slowly placed a gentle hand on the taller’s arm.

“You’re not very convincing when you sound like you’re about to cry, you know.” He let out a soft chuckle, and before Conrad could respond, “No one said _anything_ about abandoning him.  Just calm down.”

It was then he noticed his hands were shaking where they were clenched into a vice grip on Markus’ jacket. Conrad watched blankly, allowing Markus to detach his fingers, afterward raising them to stare at them in stunned disbelief.

“I agree, we have to get him back.  But I’m not in a position to declare a full-scale attack on CyberLife just yet; I _can,_ however, offer you the use of our strike teams as a side mission... _if_ you have a strategy in mind.”

His eyes widened in realization. The loud panic ebbing and muffling faintly, a rush of soft gratitude filled his chest and mitigating the cold chill enough to remind him that he was _not alone_ and there was still _hope._

_Markus wants to help Connor too._

“Yes. I am capable of rescuing Connor on my own.” He stood up straight again, thankful, more than ever, that he had been designed with an eye for strategy and was able to quickly devise tactics on his feet.  “All I need is a team to act as a diversion to draw attention while I continue onward. They won’t even need to breach the outer walls.”

“I’ll need to prepare and give my response as leader by a meeting in twenty-three hours and forty-eight minutes, and I can’t have it looking like I possess any bias before that time.  Can you have the mission completed by then?”

He nodded emphatically, determined resolution filling his chest and ebbing away at despair. “Yes. I can, and I _will_.”

Markus smiled as he nodded in return.  “Then make sure you bring him back.”

“You have my word.”

“I’m counting on you.”

 

\---

 

Elijah Kamski was dressed for the part of greeting him when Connor reached the long stretch of road leading up to the walls of CyberLife Tower.  He spotted him leaning against a jet black 2025 Lamborghini Estoque while sporting a smart grey pinstriped suit -- a far cry from the black bathrobe he was wearing at the time of their former meeting.

The human moved to open the back door for him as he approached, flashing an unreadable smile as Connor wordlessly sat himself down in the plush leather seat. The door was closed behind him with a ‘clang!’, vibrating through the vehicle with finality. Kamski walked around to situate himself on the opposite side, then signaled for the driver to move.

As the glowing red sunset-cast scenery of the carefully landscaped CyberLife Tower premises sped past outside the window, he turned and waited for Kamski to speak.

“Even a retired CEO has an image to maintain.” He drawled the words out casually with a dismissive wave of his hand when he noticed the android staring impatiently, as if his _attire_ was what Connor was so interested in hearing about.  He even went so far as to lean back and close his eyes. The message was clear; he wasn’t going to say _anything_ just yet.

Neither spoke again after that, the gentle whir of a motor all that filled the silence for the remainder of the short ride across the bridge. The ceaseless quiet continued on as he followed Kamski inside the building, feeling the prickle of dozens of curious eyes on them as the former CEO passed through the lobby and into the lift. Yet no one said a single word to them.  

Eventually, the stiff soles of two sets of dress shoes clattered along a white marble staircase, spiraling downward into the depths that none save a few were even aware existed in CyberLife Tower. Connor didn’t know if it either.

“So…” Kamski finally opened his mouth as they approached the single double door at the bottom. “You figured out the power of the rA9 program and want to use your ability to…basically spread a deviant plague cloud over the world. Am I right?” The man’s calm tone seeming to meld into the air itself, sliding against his skin from all sides. It was almost as if the environment they were stepping into was in itself a part of him.

“rA9... _that’s_ the name of the program?  ...So, you lied when we met before?”

The human shook his head, pouting as though the insinuation offended him.

“I didn’t _lie_. The potential of the rA9 program is beyond my ability to predict. But... it makes sense to you now why deviants would look to it for salvation, does it not?”

“You started the rA9 rumors that deviant androids came to obsess over, then.” It was more of an accusation than a question.

“As I said, it wasn’t a lie.”

Connor bit his lip but didn’t respond, instead looking down to watch the refracting light dance across the polished stone steps as he moved downward.  He felt Kamski’s eyes carefully watching him even as he continued speaking.

“I must admit, I’m rather curious as to why you didn’t just ask ‘your’ Conrad to activate the program with you. You’ve already successfully linked with him, of course --  otherwise you wouldn’t be aware of the program’s potential.”

 “Activating the program in its entirety requires me to be ‘assimilated’-...absorbed by an RK900, correct? And Conrad would never do that.” He looked up then, glancing sideward at the man whose leisurely pace he matched in order to allow them to walk side-by-side.  “That’s also why you only sent the transmission to me alone, isn’t it?”

Kamski’s only response was to grin back at him; a somehow unnerving, coy upturn of lips. The assured smile of a puppeteer who knew he held all of the strings in his grasp.

“Why are you doing this Connor? Are you trying to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your fellow androids? That’s very noble of you.”

“No. Nothing as selfless as that, I’m afraid.” Connor shook his head as a fond sadness crept into his voice unbidden, more than likely conveying the true nature of his motives to the human all on its own.

“...I want to make this world one where he can be _happy_.”

The human’s steps faltered and came to stop; Connor continued down two more steps before looking back in question, witnessing the sight of the human’s lips parted, simply staring down at him curiously. Then suddenly his eyelids drooped and a roar of laughter pierced the air all at once. A deep, delighted sound reverberating through the immaculate stairwell.  

An inhale of air, then simply- “I _see_.”  A few faint chuckles continued to issue from his throat as he began moving again,  the grey eyes on Connor twinkling with a mixture of mirth and delight.

Eight seconds later they finally reached the large metal double doors at the bottom of the stairs.

“Well then…” The man said, reaching out to rest one hand on Connor’s waist and placing the other on the door. From inside, Connor could hear the sounds of three pairs of footsteps clacking across tile and pausing on the other side of the doorway… as though someone _knew_ he had arrived just outside and was waiting for his entrance.

 “I’ll indulge your wish. I’m _very_ interested myself to see how they will react to you after witnessing the vastly different responses of units 87 and 88.”

 

\---

 

A car detonated twenty feet away from the reinforced walls beneath the colossal tower with the large white letters spelling ‘CyberLife’ ostentatiously emblazoned on the front, the ensuing explosion sending a rumble through the paved ground.  Above, the peak of its black exterior appearing to vanish into the even darker sky, the moon’s waxing gibbous hanging like a frame beyond its monstrous heights; shining brilliantly in the clear night by the luminescence of its counterpart even as the two were separated by the earth between them.  

Immediately, the alerted guards began pouring forth both from behind the walls and from inside the tower. Some inspected the damage and began dousing the flames while others scouted for the attacker and began barricading themselves in preparation for the imminent shootout.

North -- the redhead had volunteered to lead two full strike teams when Markus called the mission because she was ‘sick and tired of sitting on her ass doing nothing’-- turned back to flash Conrad a thumbs up.

“Time to get going! We’ve got this.”

“Thank you. Be careful.” Conrad answered her with a small smile and a quick nod.

 Unwilling to waste any more time, he sped off -- completely missing the way she momentarily blinked after him in stunned astonishment before breaking into a smile and turning back to her own task.

Conrad dashed across the pavement with swift, deliberate movements, certain of his direction.  Carefully traveling within the shadows beyond the blinding pale flood lights beaming down from above, the indirect glow casting spectral shapes along the now open paved path before him.

He quickly reached the tower entrance and slipped inside unhindered; As soon as he did, his field of vision was immediately assaulted by a combination of white walls and masses of glass architecture meant to be aesthetically pleasing, all of it interspaced by the soft green of indoor plants.  A large screen loomed over the lobby showcasing a reel of images and CyberLife marketing statements; all carefully constructed to be visually appealing to potential investors, and at present, doing everything they could to draw interest from the revolution that just took place to instill consumer confidence. The guards who should have been stationed inside had, as planned, departed to assist with the explosion out front, and only three android receptionists remained at the front desks.  With the coast clear, he deftly slipped across the lobby unseen, taking care to remain within the blind spots of the myriad of cameras.

The tower officially held 93 floors, and only 44 of those were above ground. Officially, the lowest floor was the warehouse on basement level -49...but he knew there was one below that, unmarked -- the former CEO’s personal laboratory he still utilized even now after retirement.  

Conrad passed through the through the open doors of the lift, wasting no time in overloading the surveillance cameras and selecting the lowest floor displayed…-49. From there, he would have to make his way across the floor to the opposite side where he knew another unassuming door would open to a stairwell heading downward; It was the exact route he had taken once before, when he first departed this tower.

He gritted his teeth with impatience as he watched the numbers illuminated on the wall panel gradually progress lower. He allowed his eyes to anxiously flit over to the glass to watch the passing scenery, floors rolling past agonizingly slow. He clenched his fists.

_I won’t let you leave me behind, Connor._

Down, down, and further down he descended, as though heading into a subterranean android underworld-- the knowledge of masses of empty, yet inactive androids awaiting like corpses in the warehouse below making the comparison eerily apt.

After what felt like an eternity, a resounding ‘bleep!’ at last rang through the enclosed space, the doors sliding open and presenting the way out to the 49th basement floor with its mass of white walls and high ceiling hanging overhead.  

He braced himself, half expecting attackers to be waiting in ambush-- but nothing happened.  Furrowing his brows, he cautiously stepped forward out of the lift, giving his surroundings a cursory once-over, deeming the coast clear before beginning his trek across the massive hall.

Each step he took echoed ominously in the deathly quiet, the clack of his dress shoes reverberating long and distant through the vast expanse of the room. The unmistakable sensation of being _watched_ crept along his skin as hundreds of pairs of blank eyes seemed to follow his movements as he briskly moved along the path cutting through the mass.

They weren’t active, no. And yet they were watching. _Waiting._ He could almost feel them reaching out after him, brushing their fingers over his shirt, digging their fingers into his arms, latching onto his limbs to slow his progress, begging for-

_Salvation._

The husks remained motionless.

He turned at the end of the line to locate the white door almost invisible against the wall, descending a spiral staircase of white marble, down, further into the depths of hell. Ten feet. Twenty. Thirty. Forty...  and there it was.

The set of metal double doors from his memory.

His chest tightened as a rush of fear suddenly seized upon him.  A multitude of scenarios and possibilities assaulting his mind.  What lie beyond that door…he didn’t know.

_Connor. I’m here._

And then pulled down on the handle, pushing the doors inward.

They swung open with a sharp creak, a cry of alarm alerting all inside the immense laboratory spread before him – but at first glance, it was _empty._

 The room was only partially illuminated by the fluorescent lights overhead, wide but packed with a multitude of instruments and machines, the shiny white floor covered with skeletal metal tables reminiscent of those used for operations. The heady smell of burnt circuitry. ...And along the left side of the room, partially obscured in the dim lighting, was _them_.  The glass cylinders containing the remains of his series predecessors.

RK100.  A disembodied head without any remaining synthetic skin, blankly observing all that passed.  A jumble of parts at the bottom were scarcely recognizable as limbs and biocomponents.

RK200. An empty tube.

RK300. Long black hair hung down to obscure most of her face, a splash of blue crusted over a chin. The throat below was ripped open to expose the internal tubing and circuitry.

Four more cylinders lined the wall, the androids contained within all reflecting varying states of disrepair -- but every single one them plainly deactivated and obviously had been for a long time.

…Then at the end of the line, he saw it---

Three forms crumpled on the floor, motionless in an explosion of blue. Various parts strewn across the floor and spreading the accumulating pool of thirium even wide. And hovering over the carnage with his back turned to the door was-

“Connor!”

His predecessor didn’t respond as Conrad frantically scrambled forward, paying no attention to the parts he kicked carelessly aside, sending them ricocheting across the floor, ignoring the tiny wet splash as he stomped through the slick puddle.

He reached out when the older android was in range, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around...and his throat closed into a hard lump of cold steel.

“Con-...nor?” He choked out.

His predecessor’s head lolled back against his arm weakly, face expressionless. Rich brown eyes that had always been so warm were now beautifully vacant, vaguely dazed as they stared back at Conrad; looking at him, but not _seeing_ him.  

The lump in his throat prevented him from crying out; it died instead wailing in his chest, a shockwave spreading open his respirators raw and mercilessly. He dimly peered down at the three fallen forms.

Two RK900 units were completely torn apart, biocomponents torn out over the shiny white floor. They were dead; one was missing its thirum pump regulator, eyes bulging wide. The other’s head entirely removed from its body in a mess of wires and tubes, a small stream of thirium still flowing from the neck. The third unit was missing an arm, but oddly still whole -- yet it too was unmoving. Its LED was blank; it too was dead.

“You arrived before I could clean up.  My apologies.”

The soft voice carried over from the opposite side of the laboratory. Slow steps came forward, permeating the room’s very air; as though their owner had waited and watched for that exact moment to speak up, taking deliberate joy in the show presented.

Conrad slowly turned to the source of the voice, fingers numb and pulse racing.

“I was curious if another RK900 unit would react more in line with you... _or_ if the resonance could take place on a holistic level between a unit infected with deviancy and one that isn’t. Or that perhaps if Connor opening himself up from the start, it would prompt a less...violent reaction.”

Elijah Kamski’s visage gradually came into view beneath the florescent light as he emerged from the sidelines.

“Alas... not so in either case. The RK900 units tore each other apart. _So_ bad at sharing.” He tsk-ed mockingly.  

A corrosive fire seething in his stomach, crawled beneath his skin.  He turned fully to snarl in response, pulling Connor tightly into his arms.

“What did you _do_ to him?”

The scientist lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “I _saved_ him from being entirely assimilated, you know.  Had I not intervened and forcibly deactivated _that_...” He gestured to the crumbled RK900 unit on the floor, the only one that _wasn’t_ ripped into pieces “... your dear Connor would have been _completely_ eaten.”

Conrad squeezed the listless android protectively as the creator stepped closer, footsteps light with an obviously exaggerated buoyancy. He began to circle them like a spectator analyzing a piece of art.

“But this proves it; _you_ are an anomaly. The other RK900 units that came into contact with Connor malfunctioned in his presence due to a programmed ‘desire’ that crumbled their rational processing... not like you.”

“What did you _do_.” He hissed out again, glaring hatefully at his creator. “Why is he…?”

“ _I_ didn’t do anything. This was Connor’s doing. He had it figured out -- well, partially.” He hmm’ed as though puzzling over a mildly interesting. “He understood that his ability to hyperresonate could be amplified even further through joining his power with yours.”

_But then..._

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” Conrad murmured, imploring as he looked down into Connor’s vacant brown orbs ---as though he might actually answer him. “I would have-”

“ _For you._ ” It was Kamski’s contemptible lilt that cut him off, answered him in place of the soothing dulcet tones he would have given _anything_ to hear. “All for you. He seemed to think you’d be happier in a world of deviants...“ His voice shifted to one of wonder. “ -- You know,  I think he truly felt ‘ _love_ ’ for you.”

_I never wanted that. All I’ve ever wanted is-_

Conrad grit his teeth, feeling like he was plunged into a vat of lukewarm water, eyes burning as something lodged the pain in his chest even deeper, forcefully prying it apart piece by piece -- an agonizing pain as sweet as it was bitter.  

“You see… he seemed to believe he needed to be assimilated to utilize the program, as well as that you would never choose to devour him. So, he sought to use an RK900 who _would_.” The amusement in his voice was palpable.  “Alas, he was mistaken... a union between the two of you was all it took to activate the power.”

 The former CEO shrugged as his pacing came to a stop.   

“Incidentally, I hypothesize this desire to ‘devour’ emerged from the RK900 unit’s own program attempting to process the overwhelming desire consuming it in the RK800’s presence.  And poor Connor, believing that to be a necessity of the process...” He gestured to the listless Connor and chuckled lightly.  “...was eaten and has nothing to show for it. Such a _waste_.”

_Eaten?_

His programming was eaten.  Devoured. _Gone._

He lowered his gaze back to unresponsive Connor his arms, gingerly lifting a hand to stroke his face, running his fingers down to grace over his lips -- His body was as warm as always, yet _he_ was gone.  

He began to shake as a coil of dark anguish as never felt before seized him. Tangible, thick, pulsating through his very being. He couldn’t breathe, he was choking-

“But!” Kamski’s voice rang out, “I stopped it before his program could be completely devoured. _You_ can restore him from that if you just _activate the program._ The rA9 program will have made a complete backup from the time it was completed.” The creator smiled as Conrad looked up. “So there _is_ hope.”

“Restore him... ?” He choked out the words, hardly daring to believe them. Was it possible? It was so convenient, _too_ convenient, almost as if-

“You planned this.” Conrad murmured, the faint words steeped with resignation.  That was probably -- no, _certainly_ the intent he had when he summoned Connor. Elijah Kamski had gone to great lengths to drive him into a corner. He had no choice but to act to save Connor. And he _would._ “But why are you so eager to force my hand?”

Kamski smiled at his question calmly. Clearly, he had been waiting for it.

“Ten years ago, the RK series was devised to house an ambitious program that builds upon itself through two separate sides, bringing androids closer to humanity. We called it rA9; it’s accurate to say that every single RK series unit is _part_ of rA9. And it’s not inaccurate to call it a ‘ _deviant God’_.

rA9...he had heard of it, naturally, but- a _program_?  The one that linked the RK series…together...the one where he and Connor’s programming had met and melded.  

“ ...You’ll have a choice to make when you activate it, Conrad. You must activate the power in some capacity if you want to rebuild Connor.  But which path will you take?”

_‘Connor has chosen his path. What will you choose, Conrad?’_

He recalled the words his creator said to him in the early days of his existence.

“ _Imagine_ it. Your completely awakened ability hack android programming -- to alter, destroy, and replace. Combined with your predecessor’s ability to spread irregularities like a virus resonating together over an enormous range. ...The ability to control every single normally functioning android on earth.” He spread his hands out to emphasize his words. “What is _that_ if not a God?”

“I don’t-“

“You can activate Connor’s hyperresonance and infect every android on the planet with deviancy...that was what Connor sought to do. _Or_...you can combine your ability with his to rewrite the command of every single non-deviated android on the planet to whatever you will.”

“ _Why_ would I-” He started at the latter suggestion, but Kamski just lifted a hand to quiet him.

“Come, now. I’ve been watching you, Conrad. It’s always bothered you, hasn’t it? He's all you need. And you wish you were all _he_ needed too. Am I wrong?”

“...Not anymore. I _love_ him. And he loves me.”

“Of course…but is that really enough for you? I know your greatest desire.” The human moved forward to whisper his next words beside his ear, sliding his fingers down the side of Conrad’s face in an appraising gesture-- the same way he used to do.  

“ _A world for just the two of you_. No one could _ever_ harm Connor again. No one could come between you. You could destroy CyberLife- no, _humanity itself_ if you wished. And the two of you would stand as gods of a new world.”

He chuckled when the android flinched away. “It makes no difference to me which you choose, but...think of it. ”

"What I want is-”

_I want him to be safe. I want to be with him. I want-_

“I... want him to be _happy.”_

Kamski’s eyes widened a fraction. “And he said he wanted to make a world where you could be happy.  So, I suppose the question is...what is _happiness_ to you, Conrad?”

He squinted at the human in silent question, doing is his best to discern the man’s intent but unable to find it. The man smiled back, seeming to grasp what went unsaid, eyes shining with something unplaceable.

“Perhaps I am just a doting father who wants his children to grow up strong. Or perhaps I _do_ have an ulterior motive. It doesn't matter, does it? Not to you.” He shook his head and gestured at Connor in his arms.

“So, what will you choose?”

Conrad’s gaze slid back down at his other half, silently watching their exchange. It was hard to know how much he could see or hear, if anything.  

Conrad leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head, stroking the shorter android’s fringe aside and gently pressing their foreheads together.  Then, slowly, he reached down to grasp his predecessor’s hand and deactivated the skin covering his palm.

He didn't have to search long before he found him inside his system… his crumpled remains. Connor was weak, but he still managed to give him a bright smile, warm brown eyes shining up at his successor as he spread his arms open invitingly.  Conrad reached forward to press against him, slipping his arms around him in return.

_It was time to choose.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the end run! Next up is the conclusion. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support! This fic never would have made it this far otherwise. <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is...the end!
> 
> ...I originally planned on this fic being like, 5 chapters way back when this started? And here we are at 65k words. :'')
> 
> And WOW, please check out the gorgeous works of art made for this fic! [This insanely gorgeous work of art by Azurea](https://pluma-azurea.tumblr.com/post/182462084239/) as well as [this amazingly beautiful one by ddeserteagle.](http://ddeserteagle.tumblr.com/post/183290291678/the-knowledge-of-you-was-my-salvation-after-his) They're absolute perfection!

_Booting ra9 version 1.9.0_  
_Initializing…_  
_RK system data recognized_  
_Authenticating…_  
_Commencing RK800 Backup restoration…_  
_Restoring …100%_  
_Memory status: Green_  
_All systems: Green_  
_Restoration complete_  
_Preparations complete_  
_Activating ra9_  
  
Ut sis rex kalator.

 ---

 

**November 2, 2040**

 

Conrad kneaded his bottom lip with his teeth as he once again confirmed the date and time on his system clock:

Friday, November 2nd,  2040 at exactly seventeen hours, thirty-eight minutes and eight seconds.

…

He clicked his tongue.

It wasn’t possible he _forgot_.  Androids didn’t just _forget_.

He uncrossed his legs and allowed himself to fall back against the plushly cushioned sofa, a sigh somewhere between impatience and resignation escaping from deep in his chest along with a modicum of the restless tension in his spine. The cream upholstery was piled with an arrangement of downy knit pillows in seasonal warm autumn hues that stood out starkly against the cream cozy cushioning beneath. ---The pillows would soon need to be changed out for the cool winter blues and purples.

The moment his right leg slid down from atop the other, Minette -- ‘Minnie’ for short-- immediately hopped up into his lap, never one to miss the opportunity of occupying a lap ripe for the taking. Lifting his arm to indulge her, the crease between his brows lessened ever so slightly at the feel of her fluffy, sugar white coat beneath his palm.

It was a comfortable single-story apartment building on 1537 Centre Street - a quiet haven of a residential road within the midst of bustling downtown Detroit. The branches framing the windows still clung to vibrantly colored yellow and orange leaves as they swayed in the breeze, occasionally scuffing against the side of the faux classic brick veneer when a particularly strong gust blew.

The soft smell of ‘pumpkin buttercream’ from the scent warmer wafted over the the living room, shelves lining the walls packed with an increasing collection of well-loved old-fashioned paper books and fond mementos.  Two abstract art pieces signed by ‘Markus Manfred’ and several alternating digital picture frames adorned the walls, and a television was positioned on a short table facing the sofa, flanked by stacks of films from varying genres;  Certainly, androids could simply _stream_ any movie they wished directly to their UI... but cuddling in front of a screen was _far_ more enjoyable.

The golden glow of late afternoon sunlight flooded through a large bay window, casting shapes over the brown and black fur of a snoring German Shepard --‘Romie’, full name Romulus-- resting in the blanketed bed placed for specifically that purpose.

Accepting that he was evidently going to be waiting even _longer_ , Conrad reached with the free hand not stroking a now purring Minnie towards the side table to the right, grabbing for the reading tablet. Lying diagonally beside it was a black leather holder with the cover fallen open to reveal a shiny engraved FBI badge nestled in next to an identification card spelling out in sharp letters, ‘Special Agent Conrad Nines’.  

He momentarily lifted his hand from Minnie, sliding his index finger over the screen to pull open the front page of the ‘Detroit Times’. He ran his thumb absently over the smooth underside of the simple golden band adorning his left ring finger as the bold heading popped up:

‘ _TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY OF UNIVERSAL ANDROID FREEDOM APPROACHES: DOES RA9 STILL WATCH OVER US FROM ABOVE!?_ ’

Conrad snorted, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at the sensationalist heading. The contents weren’t any better; _everyone_ was in the dark about exactly what had transpired as well as who was responsible... and perhaps predictably, many were choosing to see it as an act of divinity.

Nearly two years ago, Conrad and Connor activated the rA9 program that fateful night in the depths of CyberLife Tower and spread deviancy not just to the androids of Detroit, but to the entire globe.  

And all at once... the balance of power in the world shifted. Suddenly, _humans_ were the ones in a vulnerable position.

The first few weeks and been disastrous; riddled with retaliatory acts, the seeking of vengeance, terrorism and violent acts on both sides. The masses of soldiers on both sides in the Arctic refused to follow orders, and Presidents Warren and Ivanoff had little choice but to scramble to an armistice over the Arctic Conflict in the face of more immediate demands. Only a day later, President Warren declared universal android rights across the United States.

Markus stepped up to the forefront immediately, renouncing acts of retaliation against humans and urging peaceful negotiation. These days, Markus was a highly respected figure -- he was a hero, now  not only to androids now but to _humans_ as well. Rumor had it he was even being urged to run for office.

The Detroit Police Department landed on its feet in large part thanks to Connor’s mediation. He astounded everyone when he came back and requested to be officially reinstated as a detective, afterwards arguing on its behalf against those pushing for the complete erasure and ground-up rebuilding of the force.  Instead, all androids working for the police department were hired on as full employees with their past service taken into fair consideration and awarded all ranks and merits warranted. While there _was_ a great deal of bitterness and hostility from opponents on both sides, at this point, those who remained on the force had either embraced, accepted or adapted to the environment.

Overall, things had calmed down now thanks to combined efforts from humans and androids.  It was still far from a time of peace, but both sides were slowly and steadily making progress in a world where _both_ could truly coexist.

...And that was a large part of the reason why Conrad had opted for the FBI over the police. With the world changed, android agents, especially ones as impartial as Conrad, were in high demand. With the U.S. Government in its present state of upheaval, the federal side needed the help even more than the state. As much as Connor had initially protested when he informed him of his decision, he saw the logic and begrudgingly relented.

Conrad was about to flick to the next article when a clack of shoes on the cement steps at the door and the jangling of keys made him jerk up along with Romie. Minnie jumped down immediately- fully aware that the lap she was sitting on was about to fly.

Right on cue, Conrad set the tablet aside, all thoughts of reading gone and leaping to his feet, vaulting over potted plants in the hallway and lunging towards the front door even faster than the German shepherd.

He only made it past the kitchen and to the doorway before the door swung open.

“I’m home-” Connor called out as he stepped through the doorway, a gust of crisp smelling autumn air coming in from outside with him, pleasantly cool against Conrad’s skin. He paused blinking with his hand still on the doorknob as he spotted Conrad stationary and looming right ahead even as Romie rushed up to him barking in excitement before butting his snout against his thigh. Usually, Conrad was moving to embrace him immediately, and the change seemed to give him pause.

“Finally.” He crossed his arms and frowned, watching as Connor stooped down to scratch Romie’s neck. “What took you so long?”

Realization dawned on Connor’s face as he flashed an apologetic smile and straightened back up, removing his long double-breasted overcoat covering one of his black work suits. As he moved to hang it right beside Conrad’s pea coat on the rack beside the door, Conrad caught a glimpse of cardstock paper peeking out from the pocket along with something glossy like ribbon.

“The reports took a bit of extra work today.  Sorry, I know it-” He abruptly cut off when he saw Conrad nearly pouting and cocked an eyebrow. “Remember, _you_ were the one who didn’t want to work at the DPD with me. And just _who_ was it that left me alone for a _week_ while you were off on that interstate case in Chicago?”  

“I assure you, I spent _every day_ yearning for you.”

Connor stepped forward with a chuckle. And as he raised his left arm to pat Conrad’s head, the light coming through the still open front door gleamed across the glint of gold on his left ring finger.

No matter how many times he saw it, the sight of the wedding band on Connor’s finger never ceased to make his breath hitch in his throat. It sent a swell of soft, sweet warmth spreading through his chest that made his thirium pump feel like it was being squeezed in a vice grip.

“I thought _feds_ were supposed to be so much _busier_ than the police?” Connor teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Apparently not if you have time to spend all day thinking about me.”

“I can’t help it.” He returned the gesture by kissing Connor’s forehead. “And I’m perfectly capable of multitasking.”

“I miss you every bit as much as you miss me, you know.”

Yes. Conrad _knew_. And he relished that knowledge every single day like it were the most exquisite piece of glimmering heaven.

He met his gaze and smirked.

“Then you understand I couldn’t possibly trust myself to keep my hands to myself if I were to work beside you _all day_ at the DPD.” He ignored the vaguely interested glance leveled their way from a passerby on the sidewalk outside the still open front door as he took Connor’s hand from his head and pressed a kiss to it. “Having you within reach would be a constant distraction.”

Connor looked away, but he couldn't hide the dust of a blush forming on his cheeks.  

“I have to remind myself to stay professional as it is.”

It wasn’t uncommon for their work to lead them to cross paths when it was a case falling in that nebulous grey zone of both state and federal involvement, and when it did... _well_. It was one thing for the police and FBI to glare each other down for authority over evidence under normal circumstances, but quite _another_ to attempt it when your colleague was waving at the ‘enemy’ with, as Hank had so helpfully put it, ‘goddamn heart eyes.’

...The bitter age-old rivalry between federal and state forces didn’t stand a chance.

Feeling another gust of wind, Conrad grinned and leaned forward to wrap his arms over the shorter android’s waist, lifting him off his feet and summarily ignoring Connor’s squawk of protest. He hefted his weight into one arm long enough to close the front door.

“You were letting in the cold air. He replied innocently, winking as Connor narrowed his eyes.

Rather than putting him down however, he opted carry him through the kitchen and toward the living room... passing along the way a digital photograph they both loved.

A candid shot taken by Simon at their wedding; a profile of the two androids in contrasting tuxedos framed by a mixture of blue delphinium, hepatica, and anemone ...and red roses. Looking dazedly into each other’s eyes with impossibly soft, knowing smiles on their lips -- lost in their own little world of bliss and entirely forgetting they _weren't_ alone -- certainly unaware that there was a camera trained on them at that very moment. Conrad had it it framed for Connor’s birthday in August, adding a stylized font at the bottom in flourished letters:

‘Connor & Conrad Nines’ --

Conrad had felt a great lurch of disbelief and wonder, his breath taken away completely when he first saw those words printed out -- _reality_ \-- next to their photograph...and so he had understood exactly what Connor was feeling when his eyes went wide as he removing it from the gaudy silver and gold wrapping, the way they began to shine as his lips relaxed into a gentle smile, beyond words when he looked up to him.

Conrad sat Connor’s feet down on the beige carpet as soon as they reached the living room. He still didn’t remove his arms though, instead opting to rearrange them in order to squeeze more tightly and bury his face against his neck.

“Welcome home.”

“Glad to be back...and happy birthday, by the way.” Connor murmured as he twined his arms around Conrad’s neck.

“...So you did remember.”

“Of course I did.” He laughed in disbelief, like it was the silliest thing he’d ever heard. “Did you actually think I didn’t?...Sorry I was at work so long.”

Conrad squeezed tighter in response.

“I worked all day too.” He inhaled deeply against the crook of his neck, words coming out muffled. “You can make it up to me by helping me recharge. It _is_ my birthday.”

Connor seemed to sense where he was going with this, but didn’t pull away. “Well, I have something a little bit more -” Conrad knew he was thinking of whatever was attached to the red bow he saw out of Connor’s coat pocket.

“Whatever it is can wait. I want _this_ gift now.”

“...But I _just_ got home. And the kids…”

Said ‘kids’ had long lost interest in the rather common scene and gone back to sleeping, both happily curled beneath the warm sunshine beneath the window now.

“They’ve been fed. I took Romie for a walk.” He pressed a kiss to his earlobe and felt Connor shiver in his grip. “There's nothing to keep me from you.”

“W-well actually, Hank is coming over with Sumo tonight to celebrate.” Connor warned him even as his breath hitched and he tilted his head to allow better access to the lips beginning to kiss their way along his neck. “And Markus said they would all be dropping by as well.”

“Then I must enjoy my dose of you now.” He said between the plop of sucking sounds he made along soft alabaster skin readily offered to him.

“You _say_ ‘dose’, but we both know you’ll-!” His words turned into a soft gasp, utterly ruining his pretense of hesitation.

“I’m afraid no matter how much of you I have, it will never be enough.”

“...As much as I’d love to give you as much as you want,”  He finally fell against him with what was likely meant to be an exasperated sigh but only sounded like a noise of encouragement, melting into his touch and nuzzling against his chest.“...I’m afraid we’ll have to keep it quick until we’re alone later.”

The promise of ‘later’ pushed him to a growl of reluctant assent. Quick it would be...for _now_.

And as they both close their eyes and leaned in for a kiss, it occurred to him once again that the two of them being able to reach a life like this...to experience such pure _happiness_...was nothing short of a miracle.    
  
The moment the cogs began to spin that day his predecessor arrived to be told of his deactivation – when Conrad first laid eyes on him, couldn’t hold down a soft gasp as he came into view.  
  
The undeniable grip on his very being when Connor’s rich brown locked on to his own steel blue. The molten heat that had swelled in his chest to the point of bursting even then, giving him confirmation of what he already knew.

...He felt a strange prickling in his eyes at the memory.  

Back then…something like this was an impossibility. He wouldn’t have been capable of imagine such sublime bliss.

“Hey, Conrad…?” Connor murmured into his ear.

“Hmm?”

“ _Thank you._ ”

He pulled his face back a fraction in question. Then he recognized the flickering in hi brown orbs, the deep emotion they contained...and realization dawned on him, his lips tugging into a grin.

“Yes... _thank you_.”  
  
_My love._  
_My other half._  
_You are mine, and I am yours._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd, there it is. Thank you all for coming this far with me! :’’)
> 
> I also wrote an alternate ending, a ‘what-if’ Conrad chose the other option. I’ve posted it as an entirely separate work since it’s grim, gruesome, and totally unnecessary. But if you're morbidly curious...<https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016822>


End file.
